






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


Shelf 


HlM’i 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 















% 

t 










r A * ^ a"* ^ *~ A& 1 ^ 

' ••': *L * 


Kf\ 






« « 


v-< 

^ «. 


% 




^ « 


*" ft 


r ^ 


. •a . 


. • •f^'^ 


w* 


^ ■»v- 


Sr 




: .*■ •<-.- ^ ■• - -C^ 




/ 


>:>" 




w i 




•- •' 

1^ A 


.«» «r 


V ^ 


'■ • - - 

' 'irn-' .f'-' '■• • -v'’ .yCr/ir'^’^ V.' 

,, -V ' >• -'>■• ,vi> v,^-, ' .. \v' ■■7:'''. ;.r-:'.---^ ■ , . 

.."■ .-:■: - : . • ■ ~ 

A ^ w ^ 4 *• 1 ^ -V k _- -1* 






S f* 


• ^ 


• / 


ViM 


•. t 


A 

\ . 




■>0'* 

i^ . -i] 




A 


M *‘ « C 


A 

• 4 


• - 

. ^ 

\ • 


%• 


» - V* 


> 

< . 




. ^ 


</* X, ^ > 


- ^‘A 


— ■ '’■?■’ A - 

• ^ M,' 


.* 


i 


> • *•. 




/• ; 


\. 


- r, r . 


« A 









•V. >• 


> 


# C 


«. • 


1.^ 




• ^ 




r • ’ 

• - V 
i • ^ 


' L ■ • * " 


\» > 


-c-.^c:v' •■- 

>«. , *• •^; . ■■'i- 




•> ^ • 




It- 


/ 


4-^-. 


» « 


•“ 4 •• 

» 


V •: 


^ -i r • ' 

- 

..■•:- V*'. 


I 

. «,• 

• ■ 


' '•' •«. . 

V • 


-- > 
• > 



r . • 


4 


** 



t • 


♦. V' 


4 

L ^ . 




* ^nV*. •' • • -f! ^ 

• kV'. . • ^v« - 




x-r ! 4. V . I • ^ 




^ , A- 


S 




4 • ^ 


^'.r- > K ■ • 

■rf . •■ • . j « ✓ i* - 

■ ” ■ .* 


• ( 





4. 

A ^ h 


i-\ .. - 




* 




. • :> .tr ^ ' ^.r ^ ' • 

SC'k,- ^5 - ‘ ^ ^ 


--• .-t- * 

• , V 


# 


> • 


• ♦w* • 


• r 


u • 




^^••**5,- ' r"' * • 

^ ^ A'jj^ * ♦ * • \ ^ ^ 

I# •/► • •' . . , ' ♦ - 









I . . . 


i-p.<^ :-m. 

-••> ‘j-*- 


J' 4 




> 


r 9 

r 

.O 


— 


•^a.L ^ _ _^ 

G-?. ^ xr -•’' -.-.v- '- 


ra .. -' 



• fc 4 


■ • ; 


0 • 


a: 


"A 




' - 'r^' 

■j-" i . . 



• r 








i A 

4 , ^ « 


* • 
ft 


% 4* 

' >• 


I 


-'I * -^ • > *. 

r.- 


■ y. 




\ * 


• I 


4 

^ r ^ 




'^ . < v.-> M 






i' *; 


■ • 

« 

V-:.. ^ 

• ' ^*7 • *-*'^*' 

• ^ CW* 


^ ‘ . V-:.. ^ 

V- f ?: ^ 

At V" 


• • • A.^ 



« 4- 


4 


-V. • . ■ . V » - . ^• 


\ ; 

.•i* 




mm 


f> : 


' "V 

'A * 


►‘V ■‘. ^ “ . 


u 

t 




:> . 


\ 


A. ♦ t 

• 1 *• 


r * 


^ * i 


T 


> « 

■ a/' _ 
^ -* 


*• : 





• u- • 


t 4 



X 

I « 


. T • 


•>4 ' 


» A. 


'.,- =; .* ; . " ' > 


* . 

^4 


% 




w • 


-w' 

< 




. ;v 


..V- 


•T 'T. •%' > 

‘V 




■* -< 




‘V^ 


^1 • • 

b. • % ^ -t^X 


X 




• A - 


- “:- ■^". .. V?'- 





* . 



















5iW=>lr>:^ 


Vi** 


iJjHf 


K 



■\- % 




m 


*% 


* > 


3i 




>- I :t 






l”? 'O' 






A7r 




( .# 


# • 


rv 


, 'Z ft* •( ' ^ ■ 


/ -v- 


S.* 






, '(*N . 






■» '■■ 


^ A 




‘'i 






• / 




4 ‘ 




‘ ♦J 






» ' 






'■'* 'l aBK ' ' 

’ ■ T . . '♦ V* I 


X^: 


« ^1 


’.kt 


J/! 


W 




:r 


p/ 


«t * 


■ * 


mt M — '■ - 

M. . 


* -«♦ - I 






tK 


\r' 


. ‘y- ‘ ^ 

■ ■ -i^-'^^.<■' 


r-’’ ‘ 


:*t 




r\^r#, 


I ^ 


'/ .v<’ 






L«f « 




.A 




v; 





,» r- 


f 4t 


V»^' 


i»». ^ ,' 


» « 





’ . • .s • '■ ' ,• #4 -'.,. '" ■ •“'srjBaf'V i'‘ 

^ .w .1.-. v^-i'* •■ • _-JMRiilfr‘‘V 


> r- 


*'«'• ■ ;.T?--'i;'^ ■' ■■■■ *”■ ■ .:■, '■ '••’ > 

,n 'W^- 

.); ti-TsSe* 

g^ygTv s .. 

^ EXlH f , . 



:i. « I, \ -.X- 

• • 


I <►. - 


■W * 







•4,, 










* 




yr*:.’ 




X' 


■i-^ 









I 


> 





■ 



( 


I 

I 


r 



■ « 





✓ 








V.- 


« * 






r 

I 


> 


f 




» * 



b 



t 


t 

« 



•«bA ^ * 


# 




% 



Our Uncle and Aunt 


3 ^ 


BY 



AMARALA MARTIN 


cO PYR'GHr 

SEP 21)888 
ni2.^ I 

“^^SHINGTO^* 


'* No effort, however small, put forth for the right cause, 
fails of its effect. No voice, however feeble, lifted up for 
Truth, ever dies amidst the confused noises of Time.” 




NEW YORK & LONDON 


G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 

5r|)e ^ntckerbotkcr Press 

1888 



COPYRIGHT BY 

AMARALA MARTIN 

i888 


Press of 


G. P. Putnam’s Sons 
New York 


DEDICATION 


TO 

MY NOBLE-HEARTED, GENEROUS-MINDED HUSBAND 

WHO PASSED FROM THIS LIFE 
FEBRUARY 9, 1887 
THIS LITTLE VOLUME 
WHOSE PUBLICATION HE DESIRED 


IS MOST LOVINGLY DEDICATED 


i 


f 


PREFACE. 


It will be seen that ‘‘Our Uncle and Aunt” rep- 
resents the average man and woman of America, and will 
reveal a certain principle to all who seek it. Further- 
more, it is self-evident that this book was not written 
for public approbation ; which fact bears me out in my 
claim to good motives. To all advocates of unpopular 
views come adverse criticisms from both strangers and 
friends, and such only do I anticipate for myself. While 
I greatly deplore such results, I cannot, on that account, 
resign my honest convictions. 

Nothing in this volume is intended as personal. On 
the contrary, I have denied myself valuable material, and 
had some annoyance in leaving out facts with which I was 
familiar. 

The duties, customs, and peculiarities of the profes- 
sional people to whom I often necessarily refer, are not 
identified with my acquaintances. Both socially and in 
business transactions I have experienced nothing but 
the utmost courtesy from professional men, and count 
them among my most valued friends. My present work 
deals not persons^ but with principles ; and if it result 
in any good for humanity, my object will be attained. 

Cairo, 111. 












CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — Apple-Blossoms i 

II. — The Skeleton Exposed 9 

III. — An Unwomanly Woman 17 

IV. — Mince-Pies 23 

V. — Juvenile Oratory 30 

VI. — Our Uncle at Home 36 

VII. — Miss Prim’s Story 45 

VIII. — An Infamous Law 51 

IX. — Rudimental Liberty 62 

X. — Women at Work 72 

XL — The Friendly Grave 81 

XII. — A Pretty Fiction 89 

XIII. — The American Heaven loi 

XIV. — Recording Angel’s Office . . . .111 

XV. — Driven to the Wall .120 

XVI.— A Demon’s Work 131 

XVII. — Heaven’s Records i 37 

XVIII. — Our Uncle’s Arraignment . . . .144 

XIX.— The Old Home 150 

XX. — Plymouth Rock i 57 

XXI. — Our Aunt’s Speech 166 

XXII.— Released 179 

XXIII. — Bible Proofs 185 

XXIV. — Trapped i 95 

XXV. — Women’s Universal Sin 206 

XXVI. — The Dawn 213 

XXVII.— Conclusion 221 

vii 








OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


CHAPTER I. 

APPLE-BLOSSOMS. 

“ I wish the bud would never blow, 

’T is prettier and purer so.” 

H oneysuckles and roses grew over the nurs- 
ery window where I sat, and their sweet odors 
floated in on the evening air, which swept the 
long white curtain against my cheek. My husband 
pushed the vines aside and handed me a couple of let- 
ters. Oue had been long delayed, but was characteristic 
of the writer. It was as follows : 

Washington, D. C., April 21, 1846. 

My dear Jessie : 

“ Deny it no more, for I know there is a ‘ skeleton in 
your closet.’ If your husband put it there, as I strongly 
suspect, may Satan roast me ! if I don’t make him repent 
it. He ’ll wish himself anybody in the world but Charley 
Bell. I ’ll honor, defend, and protect helpless women 
as long as I live, and right your wrongs, let them be what 


I 


2 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


they will. So, my child, my brown-eyed baby, tell me 
frankly what ails you. 

“ Your affectionate guardian, 

“Uncle Sam.” 

I smiled at the kind, impulsive style of this message, 
and found the second one delightfully interesting and 
affectionate. 

Tears of gratitude filled my eyes as I read the uncon- 
strained thoughts expressive of so much endearment, 
and I almost imagined my uncle’s hand on my head in 
the old-time caresses. His letter brought me the vision 
of green hills and meadows, the smell of the apple-blos- 
soms, and the songs of the robin. It reminded me of 
the old home where I had lived till my parents died ; the 
place where my uncle resided during his early married 
life, and where he and his wife spent all their summers 
during my childhood. When I was but nine years of 
age I was left an orphan ; and being the only child the 
homestead was left in trust for me, and I — was left to 
my uncle. I had no other close relation, and no need of 
a kinder one. He rented the home to his wife’s cousin, 
Mrs. Hall, and removed me to his mansion in the city ; 
and no one but a sensitive, home-sick child could have 
understood my anguish. Home ties and love of nature 
were so strongly developed in me that they could not be 
uprooted. I pined for the familiar objects and beloved 
scenes I had left, till my health was greatly impaired by 
my sufferings. I was nicely dressed, taken out walking 
and driving, and I saw many little children looking at me 
with longing eyes ; but I felt sure, as I confidentially told 


APPLE-BLOSSOMS. 


3 


the coachman, that they were happier than myself. “ I 
would rather,” said I, “ ride on the hay-cart in my own 
home than in this elegant carriage. I would prefer to 
get down and hug and kiss our sleek, broad-backed pony, 
to riding behind these prancing steeds. I would rather see 
my pretty kitten and old Towser, than all the pretty la- 
dies and fine gentlemen in this city. I want my own hills 
and trees and people. Oh ! how long will it be till sum- 
mer-time, when I can go homeV" 

My uncle and aunt were so infinitely kind that I used 
every effort to be cheerful, but only time had power to 
heal my grief. 

My uncle’s letter brought up anew all the events of my 
childhood. I seemed once more the little, loving, sun- 
burnt girl wading in the pebbled streams with my bare 
feet, or climbing in the orchard trees, singing with the 
birds. How I longed to return to the sunny hours of 
childhood ! to its flower-scented summers, and its cheery, 
blithesome winters ; to its dolls, swings, birds’-nests, and 
general irresponsibilities ; to its fields of clover, whose 
beauty gladdened my eyes, and whose fragrance perme- 
ated my whole being, as I ran through its dewy sweets ; 
its woods, where I gathered the ferns and anemones of 
spring, the red berries and purple grapes of summer, and 
brilliant leaves and brown nuts of autumn ; its grand 
old forest trees, in whose shadows I rested while 
listening to the voice of the winds. And gazing in the 
blue expanse above, I dreamt the dreams of the guile- 
less 

How well at that moment I remembered the pathway 
home, leading across the little stile and through the old- 


4 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


fashioned garden ; the pretty garden, aflame with pop- 
pies, hollyhocks, marigolds, and cock’s-combs, with a 
green background of sweet-scented herbs. Those brill- 
iant, stalwart flowers always nodded a welcome to me, 
but I was half afraid of their startling, glowing colors, 
and I ran away to my pinks, pansies, and violets. To 
me these modest flower-children lifted almost human 
faces. In their mute way they appealed to me for drink 
and sunshine, or greeted me with dewdrops and delicate 
odors. They were my companions, my friends, and as 
they brushed my rosy face, I whispered my little secrets 
to them. I promised them closer attention, and sang 
them snatches of song with as much pleasure as if they 
were companions of flesh and blood. And who shall 
say they were incapable of feeling ? 

With my uncle’s letter in my mind, I seemed to stand 
once more on the cool old porch where the blue-bird 
built her nest and raised her young ; where the honey- 
suckle grew in rich profusion, tossing its delicious odors 
on the breeze ; where the wild rose stretched its leafy 
limbs in the sunshine, and opened its pink clusters to the 
genial warmth. And there I seemed again to see the 
familiar faces of my uncle and aunt, the beloved guar- 
dians of my childhood. Marriage had made that couple 
one, and that one was my uncle. So fully was his wife’s 
identity lost, that she was never individualized by her 
own name, but simply called “Aunt Sam.” 

These dear old people were associated with all the 
fondest recollections of my life, yet I, who loved them so 
well, had left them years ago for another and stronger 
love. For, 


APPLE-BLOSSOMS. 


5 


“ Thus it is our daughters leave us, 

Those we love and those who love us.’' 

Under the pressure of these tender and sad memories, 
I was seized with an intense desire to sit on my uncle’s 
knee and hear the stories that used to charm me so ; or 
to be rocked to sleep in aunt’s motherly arms while 
she sang “ The Soldier’s Dream,” or “ Lord Ullin’s 
Daughter.” 

I could scarcely realize that the time had come for me 
to sing songs to three little ones of my own ; that baby 
Dot, had but a moment before given up to the soothing 
influences of — 

“ Baby bye, here ’s a fly ” ; 

or that his brother Archie’s red lips were still parted 
with a smile caused by a story whose interminable length 
brought sleep. He liked stories about “ sojer mans ” 
and “ flags ” (flags). 

Bessie, my little woman of eight years, had such a ten- 
der, sympathetic heart, that she delighted in dwelling on 
the good deeds performed for humanity. Her heroes 
and heroines were invariably burthened with baskets of 
provisions for the poor, or flowers and books for the 
sick. 

Brushing the shining rings of hair from each fair brow, 
and kissing each upturned face, I felt how blest I was in 
the possession of my treasures. How lovely they were 
in their snowy bed, my three sweet human-blossoms !■ 

I trembled to think what life might have in store for 
them, for none know for what fate they rear their chil- 
dren. The thieves, drunkards, murderers, and outcasts 


6 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


of both sexes were once the darlings of some mother’s 
heart. And shocked by this horrible thought, I lifted 
my soul in wordless prayers for the preservation of my 
little ones. I felt like nestling the little brood in the 
depths of my heart and keeping them always as then, in- 
nocent, prattling babes. And yet — it was beautiful to see 
these young minds opening into principles of truth and 
knowledge and those souls developing. As flowers open 
in the sunshine, so did these infant minds unfold in the 
warmth of our affections, and like the tender plants, need 
shielding from the storms. 

How well my adopted parents loved these little creat- 
ures ; taking them into their hearts as if they were their 
own. I wondered they were not indifferent towards 
them, since their minds were occupied with more im- 
portant objects. And to me it seemed wonderful that 
my guardians were not morally ruined by the world’s 
flattery. Especially so that my uncle, who had large 
self-esteem, should escape such a fate; for, as “Uncle 
Sam,’’ the United States of America, and E pluribus 
unum^ whom all respected, he was world-renowned. 

His friends always exhibited the utmost confidence in 
his justice, integrity, and power, never doubting his 
capacity to conquer the rebellious and pity the weak. 
They had no fears that the fashion and extravagance of 
Washington life and the pomp and glory of position 
would ever diminish his moral worth. For, although he 
appreciated the luxuries surrounding him, he never for- 
got that he was once a poor boy, struggling for a bare 
existence. Though dressed in broadcloth, lavender 
kids, and diamonds, he did not forget that his wife used 


APPLE-BLOSSOMS. 


7 


to spin and weave his clothing, knit his gloves and hose, 
and that her love was his brightest gem. 

His magnificent drawing-rooms, blue rooms, green 
rooms, and star-chambers were adorned with every thing 
a refined nation could bestow. Yet amid it all, he re- 
membered that his reception (?) rooms in early days 
were festooned with strings of red peppers, dried apples, 
and pumpkins ; that his windows were made of oiled 
paper, his doors of old blankets, and his chimneys of mud 
and sticks. He drank from a long-handled gourd and 
used tin plates and pewter spoons in lieu of silver ware. 

My aunt was just as modest and unaffected as he ; as 
true a woman behind her jewelled fan and cascades of 
soft laces, as when she had neither. She never forgot, 
in affluence, that there was once a time when she toyed 
with a turkey-wing fan and wore a plain handkerchief 
over her gentle breast; when her finest robe was a blue 
and white check woven by her own deft fingers. Those 
were her garments, in the days when she and Uncle Sam 
and other brave men and women struggled for the inde- 
pendence of our country, giving up all other things for 
the sake of mental liberty. 

And yet, as my uncle well knew, there were disloyal 
subjects making wry faces behind his back. He some- 
times asked the reason of this, but no one dared reply. 
Now why was such the case ? 

I had no time to consider, for Charley had stopped his 
evening work. He had an important case in court and 
was giving it his best efforts. 

People who said, “All lawyers are rogues,” did not 
surely know my blessed husband, or in all conscience 


8 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


they would have made him an exception. He was one 
of nature’s noblemen ; too generous for his own good 
and too tender-hearted to hurt a fly; yet brave, strong, 
and defiant in fighting wrong. Of this I intended writ- 
ing my uncle that night, but in my retrospection I forgot 
it. I placed the blame on the memory of the little bare- 
foot, sunburnt girl, who came between me and my du- 
ties ; and on the letter which brought me the vision of 
green hills and meadows, the smell of the apple-blossoms, 
and the songs of the robin. 





CHAPTER II. 

THE SKELETON EXPOSED. 

T he night was dark and a cold rain falling. Charley 
was away, the children were asleep, and I thought 
it a favorable time to answer my uncle's letter. I 
knew it was no easy task to write out the unconventional 
things which were clamoring in my heart for utterance ; 
for, put them as I would, they would certainly startle my 
dear old guardian. But as the time had come for my 
work, I dashed into it almost recklessly and wrote as 
follows: 

By exhibiting the ‘ skeleton in my closet,’ I must not 
only exonerate my husband from your accusations, but 
at the same time dec\a.re you to be the inventor and pat- 
entee of the horrid article. 

You always call me a queer woman and maybe I am, 
for I differ in many respects from the majority of my as- 
sociates. If to be in the minority implies imperfection, I 
am hopelessly wrong in some respects. I have ideas which 
many people think ridiculous, and of these I intend 
speaking. 

You see, uncle Sam, that I, being your niece and the 
daughter of your own brother, must naturally inkerit 
some of the patriotism of ’76. And since I do, shall I be 


9 


lO 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


ashamed to confess it ? Is not a noble principle as sacred 
to me as to you ? 

“ So far as I can learn at this late date, your ‘ fathers ’ 
said nothing about the merit or demerit of sex when you 
were getting recruits to come to this country. You 
brought your wives and daughters here under the full im- 
pression’ that the blessing of mental liberty should be en- 
joyed by all^ women as well as men. Had there been a 
hint of your actual intentions this continent would 
doubtless have remained a wilderness. The women 
would have borne the ills with which they were familiar, 
instead of rushing into new ones. They would not have 
fled from home and friends for the simple purpose of 
testing their own powers to endure new experiences in 
human subjection. They did not know that while they 
were packing up the household goods and necessities 
for founding new homes, you men were cunningly con- 
cealing and storing the weapons of an interminable 
war, a household war, wherein the husband turns the 
sword of injustice against the wife and the son pierces 
the heart of his mother. These implements of torture are 
no less deadly because they appear under the name of 
laws. Under any title their mission is to create in woman 
a spirit of entire obedience and subjugation to man, rob- 
bing her of all individuality and redress of wrong. 

‘‘ While I admire your courage in resisting the tyranny 
of the mother-country, I at the same time rebel against 
the fetters falling from you only to be fastened upon 
me. I see neither sense nor justice in the change. 

“ Even as a child I had some idea of the enjoyment of 
liberty, and made it practicable within the little kingdom 


THE SKELETON EXPOSED. 


II 


which I ruled. I never chained my dog, tied ribbons to 
my kittie to make it play horse, or in any way interfered 
with the coming and going of my pets. Birds never 
sang to me through their prison bars, but sought me at 
their own sweet will. And I found the female as free to 
go her way as the male, both chirping and building to- 
gether. No little singer put on airs of superiority be- 
cause he was a male. Man is the only creature claiming 
merit because of his sex. 

“When I first observed these facts, or felt the injustice 
done to woman, I know not. Perhaps these germs of 
thought were always in my mind, and developed in the 
hot-house of independence in which I was reared. 
Doubtless the conversations I heard between you and 
your companions did much towards instilling such views 
in me. Your tongues waxed warm in the praises of the 
heroes of freedom while you smoked your pipes or drank 
a friendly glass of wine together. You often quoted 
their maxims with much apparent pride and gratitude. 
Among these sayings I remember one by Samuel Adams : 

‘ No man can be justly taxed by, or bound in conscience 
to obey, any law to which he has not given his consent 
in person or by representative.’ 

“You declared that Benjamin Franklin’s benevolent 
face arose before you every time you thought of his 
glowing sentiments. Among other good things, he had 
said : ‘ Liberty or freedom consists in having an actual 
share in the appointment of those who frame the laws 
and who are guardians of every man’s life, property, and 
peace. They who have no voice nor vote in the elect- 
ing of representatives, do not enjoy liberty, but are abso- 


12 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


lately enslaved to those who have votes and to their rep- 
resentatives.’ 

“ I easily call to mind the energy you put in those 
words, and the forcible gesticulations accompanying 
them, as you declared them the only true principles of 
government. 

^‘Another quotation in which you delighted was from 
Thomas Jefferson : ‘ Resistance to tyrants is obedience to 
God.’ That, you said, was the essence of true religion. 

“ The great statesman, Thomas Paine — the man who 
first wrote ‘ the free and independent states of 
AMERICA ’ — was often eulogized for saying : ‘ Whatever 
the form or constitution of government may be, it ought 
to have no other object than the general happiness. 
When instead of this it operates to create and increase 
wretchedness in any part of society, it is on a wrong 
system, and reformation is necessary.’ 

“ James Madison said : ‘ Under every view of the sub- 
ject it seems indispensable that the mass of the citizens 
should not be without a voice in making the laws which 
they are to obey, and in choosing the magistrates who are 
to administer them.’ 

“ Such sentiments as these I used to hear discussed, 
and they are rooted in my mind beyond all hope of ex- 
termination. They are full-blown principles which I, as 
well as you, entertain. In consequence, my children 
call me a ‘ woman’s righter.’ I have the sympathy of 
neither yourself nor my husband, though you are my 
nearest and dearest male friends. 

That is my only ‘ skeleton in the closet.’ How does 
it appear to you, uncle Sam ? 


THE SKELETON EXPOSED. 


13 


“ I know, yes, my dear old sample of perfection, I 
know how you are shocked ! I understand full well what 
you are this moment fairly strangling and dying to say 
about my ^sphere' But do not worry at your lack of op- 
portunity, because every other man from Adam down 
has already said it ; and unborn generations are waiting 
for their chance to repeat it. Poor old uncle ! you will 
hereafter imagine my husband meekly rocking the cradle 
and darning stockings, and your manly heart will bleed 
in pity for him. You will turn from me in shuddering 
horror and disgust because of my vulgar views. But, 
dear guardian, now that I have them, how shall I help it ? 
What ’s to be done with them ? 

“ Personally I have no aspirations that political power 
could confer, save the satisfaction of feeling that justice 
is done me. I am a thoroughly domestic woman, and 
fitted for nothing else. I love my husband, babies, and 
home with all a woman’s devotion. I have no desire for 
any happiness but that which my family and home af- 
ford. But alas ! I pity the thousands of noble women 
not so blest. Those with wretched homes, if any, and 
dependent families. Those who toil daily for a scant 
livelihood, or who have all their hard-earned money 
taken away from them by unscrupulous husbands. Wid- 
ows or spinsters who pay ‘taxes without representa- 
tion.’ I want them to enjoy the same political advan- 
tages and protection to person and property that men do. 

“I know that the apologists for this injustice are 
numerous, and their logic simply miraculous. Some who 
are otherwise fair-minded and intelligent become furi- 
ously insane on this subject. It is a case of the red rag 


14 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


and the beast every time. They grumble because women 
do not work on the streets, yet forget that women are 
taxed to have the work done. Neither do they remem- 
ber that men are not compelled to use a shovel and hoe 
in order to secure the ballot. How many, in fact, have 
ever done so ? 

“ Though paying their proportion of all public ex- 
penses in support of town, city, county. State, and gov- 
ernment, women have no voice whatever in the disburse- 
ment of their money. 

“ Woman’s oppressors have countless reasons for de- 
nying her political rights, one being that she is too ig- 
norant, too ‘ weak-minded ’ and incapacitated, to know 
what is best for her own interests. This is not only la- 
mentably true, but is, indeed, but half of the truth. The 
other and more painful half is that ordinarily her accus- 
ers know less than she does. 

“Yet, if she were the feeble imbecile that men would 
have her believe, why should she be so zealously 
guarded against all chances of improvement ? Why not 
have the same political privileges as the male idiots who 
flock to the polls ? 

“ To prove woman’s inferiority men assure her that 
her brain weighs less than theirs, and is of poorer qual- 
ity. In regard to weight, the statement is probably cor- 
rect, for woman’s body weighs less than man’s. As to 
quality, what man has sense enough to judge ? 

“ For generations woman was taught that she was only 
created to serve man ; that any other ambition was 
wicked. She had neither permission, opportunity, or en- 
couragement to attain knowledge. 


THE SKELETON EXPOSED. 


15 


Woman’s mental growth has been dwarfed by the 
foolish customs and political oppressions which she has so 
long inherited. And until these fetters are removed her 
intellectual abilities must ever remain unknown. I cannot 
determine at what particular age her mind is supposed 
to dwindle into idiocy and that of man to expand into 
infinite wisdom. The symptoms of such change are not 
apparent during infancy. Yet woman must meet the 
charge all her life, because of man’s assumption. Were 
it an established fact, would it justify man in the legal 
and political persecutions he inflicts ? 

Did it ever occur to you, my dear uncle, that one 
half of your children are the slaves of the other ; and 
that I, your much loved and tenderly reared ward, am 
one of the victims ? Listen, dear guardian, to my sad 
story, nor turn away from me to build a wall of estrange- 
ment between us. Life is too short and love too sweet 
to waste in coldness. 

“ Charley is never impatient when I tell him my 
troubles, but he pinches my ear and says : ‘ Little 
woman, you ’ve mounted a vbry high hobby.’ Or when 
I slide up coaxingly to him to ask his opinion, he says, in 
that clever, off-hand manner of his : ‘ O bother reform ! 
So long as you and I are happy, why load up with the 
public’s troubles ? ’ 

“ The only friend in full sympathy with me is your 
other wayward and affectionate niece, cousin Marcia. 
She lives next door to me now in a cunning white cot- 
tage, which is trimmed with green vines and pink roses, 
A bird’s-nest home, with the mother-bird carrying twigs 
and straws of comfort, and bringing food for her bright 


i6 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


nestlings. Early and late the dear little mother chirps 
and sings at her work, never tiring of her daily duties, 
because they are inspired by love. 

“ Could you see her tidy home and lovely children I 
know you would be charmed. 

“ What a life of suffering she has had ? yet how strong 
and sweet and beautiful she has grown under it. Her 
mind is stored with knowledge, and her soul is devel- 
oped like some exquisite blossom. She bears the same 
relation to humanity that a white lily does to flowers — a 
pure, spotless, perfect woman. She is lovelier in her 
maturity than when you gave her to Paul Madison as a 
bride. Only few could have borne her trials and escape 
with clean hands and unwarped natures. But O uncle 
Sam ! as I intimated a moment ago, this dainty, modest 
woman is ‘ strong-minded ’ — irrevocably so. 

“ This news will, I fear, act as another severe blow to 
you, which fact I much regret. But I am obliged to be 
candid with you, so that we may understand each other 
in this correspondence. I may sometime counteract this 
story by telling you of Charley’s sister Elvira, who is in 
every respect the opposite of Marcia. 

“ Pray write me again soon, far your last letter was 
like a gleam of sunshine to my soul. 

A pair of coat-sleeves reach around my neck from 
behind my chair, and a stentorian voice exclaims 
‘ Stop ! ’ Charley’s arms are in those sleeves, and if I 
do not obey his command (?) suffocation will ensue. 

“ With my fondest love for you and aunt, I am ever 
your most affectionate niece, 

“Jessie Bell.” 



CHAPTER III. 

AN UNWOMANLY WOMAN. 

‘ There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. 

She had so many children she did n’t know what to do ; 

She gave them some broth without any bread, 

Then whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed.” 

M rs. ELVIRA HILL was my husband’s half- 
sister. Though tall and slender, yet in some 
mysterious way she appeared “ungainly,” and 
often struck some dreadful attitudes. She had a dark 
complexion, luxuriant brown hair, and jet black eyes, 
which looked out stealthily from beneath the straight, 
heavy brows which met above them, giving her that 
frowning, forbidding appearance so disagreeable in any 
one, especially a woman. Her forehead was low, her 
lips thin and severe in expression, and her chin long 
and firmly set. Her small white hands had a cold, 
clammy touch, which repelled the most ardent admirer. 
Though blessed with perfect health, she had an in- 
satiate desire to appear frail, and enjoyed exceedingly 
the recital of her imaginary ailments. She tried to keep 
her family and friends miserable in the anticipation that 
she might at any moment spread her wings and soar to 
the unknown world. But they were not always alarmed 


17 


1 8 OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 

— indeed they seemed remarkably well calculated to 
bear such an affliction. The idea had been advanced so 
often that it had schooled them into reconciliation. 

She and Charley had been raised near West Point. 
There they became acquainted with Major Hill, who, 
after a brief acquaintance, married Elvira, and, I 
could but think, had the rest of his life in which to re- 
gret his hasty decision. But be that as it may, he was 
always infinitely kind to her, and surrounded her with 
every thing desirable that money could buy. In return, 
Elvira never had a pleasant word for him, and was the 
embodiment of selfishness, jealousy, and fretfulness. 
Though educated and accomplished, she was too selfish 
aUer marriage for ornament, and too idle for usefulness, 
being one of those whining creatures who delight in 
scolding and fault-finding. Her lovely family of boys - 
and girls were, she said, the “ plagues " of her life, and 
she made them the apology for all her own short- 
comings. While in her heart she envied childless homes, 
yet she claimed much respect because of her own 
numerous progeny. She forgot that those with the 
greatest number of children do not always desire them, 
and are not in every case suitable parents, and also that 
motherhood is as common .with savages as Christians. 
She seemed unaware of the fact that many wives who 
would be happiest as mothers shrink from the responsi- 
bility of bringing sorrow into the world ; that immoral 
men whose systems are poisoned with whiskey and 
tobacco cannot give pure, healthy lives to their offspring. 
Neither their physical nor mental qualities are worthy 
of perpetuation. 


AN UNWOMANLY WOMAN. 


19 


Elvira also overlooked the fact that the laws of our 
country prohibit mothers from providing for their fam- 
ilies in case of the father’s death. Wives are not only 
deprived of the love, protection, and companionship of 
their husbands, but also of the control of their property 
and children. They cannot, use at their own discretion, 
the money they helped to earn or be the guardians of 
their own flesh and blood. With such environments, it 
seems wonderful that any thinking woman should ever 
give up the freedom of single life. 

But not having a philosophical turn of mind, Elvira 
gave no heed to these matters. Her spiritual nature was 
undeveloped. She was only a physical mother and knew, 
not the divine blessing of true motherhood. She was, 
indeed, a very unnatural and unwomanly woman. 

For months at a time she left her family at home and 
visited abroad, showing no interest or anxiety about the 
little ones who were left in the hands of hirelings. Yet, 
on her return, if her husband asked her to spend an 
evening out, she unhesitatingly replied, “Impossible, I 
cannot leave the children.” 

If pressed to take part in society or church-affairs, 
she shook her head, smiled despairingly, and sighed — 
“ Children ! ” 

If her husband wished to have a friend to dinner, she 
held up her hands in dismay, shrieking — “ Children, 
Major, C~h-i-l-d-r-e-n ! 

She shirked nearly every natural and social duty, and 
had a perfect talent for making herself and every one 
around her miserable. From a selflsh, lazy, irresponsible 
butterfly of fashion, she had developed into a slatternly. 


20 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


tyrannical wife and mother. Retaining through all 
changes, her most unenviable characteristics. She had 
neither love nor admiration for any one but herself. 

I remember an evening she and the Major spent at my 
house, which is a fair sample of many others. Near the 
close of it, cousin Marcia came in and seated herself by 
Charley, as she said : 

“I am trying to organize a society for the discussion 
of suffrage. How many of you will give me your in- 
fluence ? ” 

The Major promised to assist, and Charley said he ’d 
attend, though only as a spectator. 

“ Mrs. Hill,” said my animated cousin, “ may I hope 
for your presence ? ” 

Excuse me, Mrs. Madison,” said the scornful lady, 
“ I have no desire to unsex myself.” 

“Unsex yourself !” said Marcia, in well-feigned sur- 
prise ; “may heaven forbid ! Women can illy afford to 
spare you from their ranks. Were all your virtues trans- 
ferred to the men, their vanity, because of such an ac- 
quisition, would be boundless, while women would go in 
sackcloth and ashes, deploring your loss.” 

“ Mrs. Madison, you probably intend that for sarcasm, 
but it is not so far from fact as you think. And the 
adage still holds good that children and fools tell the 
truth.” 

“ Madam,” returned my cousin, with a mock courtesy, 
“ I care not how childish and foolish I appear to others, 
so that you appreciate me. My life-ambition has been 
to gain your favor.” 

The speaker’s smiling, saucy face was a strong dis- 


AN UNWOMANLY WOMAN. 


21 


claimer of her words, and the fierce glance cast at her 
by Elvira seemed powerless to ruffle her good nature. 
She had a keen appreciation of the ridiculous, and was 
the only one among us who enjoyed Elvira’s inconsisten- 
cies. Turning to me, the dear little woman continued : 

“Are you, too, afraid of' being transformed into a man 
by attending our meetings ? ” 

“ No, cousin Marcia, I will certainly take my chances.” 

I knew that although Charley was not in favor of 
suffrage, he was not a bigot, and would not object to my 
attendance at these discussions. He was, however, greatly 
opposed to women speaking in public, or doing any of 
those “ loud ” things so common with revivalists and 
fanatics. He declared no woman could pray in public 
without speaking through her nose, which assertion I 
warmly and invariably denied. 

Looking slyly at me, he said to Marcia : 

“ I ’m afraid if my wife becomes interested in your 
cause she will go out making ‘stump-speeches,’ and 
desert the babies and me.” My cousin, the obliging 
soul, boxed his ears to punish him for telling such a fib, 
and he subsided. 

Major Hill spoke very earnestly for political equality, 
his wife punctuating his remarks with shrugs of her 
shoulders and spiteful jerks of her head. In a lofty and 
superior style she remarked : 

“ If there ’s any thing more disgusting than a woman 
out of her sphere y I have never seen it.” 

“Just so, just so, my dear,” said her husband, in a 
tone of conciliation, “ but there ’s a vast difference of 
opinion as to where that is.” 


22 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


With a withering glance the scornful lady answered : 
“ Her sphere is home, her duty — children.” 

At this decision of his sister, Charley fell over on the 
sofa in paroxysms of laughter ; while she declared him 
of unsound mind, because he always laughed where there 
was no occasion for mirth. 

Marcia’s eyes twinkled with merriment as she expressed 
her hope that in time both Charley and Elvira would be 
restored to reason. Perhaps they 'd go to the polls to- 
gether, or — who should say ? — run for the same office. 

This daring utterance lifted Elvira’s hands in horror, 
while every long, bony finger stood up as a bristling ex- 
clamation point. She tried to speak, but there was evi- 
dently no language in which to express her condemna- 
tion of Marcia’s words. Truly, there seemed occasion 
for a postscript to the dictionaries. 

At this dreadful climax, Charley drew down his mouth 
into the most sanctimonious expression, and struck up 
the old hymn — “ O, there will be mourning ! ” His sister 
swept out of the room in much state, Marcia said she 
must hasten to her birdlings, and the Major declared the 
meeting adjourned. 

“We have cause to be thankful,” said Charley, when 
we were alone, “ that my sister was not at her worst, for 
we have had some enjoyment out of the evening despite 
her presence.” 


r • 



CHAPTER IV. 

MINCE PIES. 

“ The king of France, with twice ten thousand men, 
Marched up the hill and then — marched down again.” 

O NE morning I was, the recipient of this charming 
billet doux : 

“ Thou vulgar virago, I hear thy voice from afar ! 
Thou short-haired, brainless screecher, proclaim thy 
unholy ambitions ! Thou blue-cotton-umbrella fiend, 
keep on ! “Victim.” 

Rivers of tears were not shed nor fevers of suspense 
endured as to the author of this missive, for a very slight 
circumstance revealed it. On a page, supposed by the 
penman to be blank, was a recipe for making mince pies, 
dimly written, but in aunt Sam’s familiar style. 1 saw 
that my uncle was trying to frighten me with the stale 
old names used by witty (?) newspapers, but he failed. 
And he proved to me that he had .probably eaten too 
much pie, or drank too much flavoring with it. I was 
amused at the picture he painted of me. Of me^ his 
little Jessie. But I determined to “ keep on.” 

“ Pray, sir,” I wrote, “ does this creature of your 
2 % 


24 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


imagination pursue any of the natural avocations of life 
or exhibit any traits of humanity ? On what does it 
subsist — air, light, or food ? Does it catch the early 
worm, browse on the meadows, or gnaw a bone ? Is it 
civilized sufficiently to smoke, chew tobacco, and drink 
liquor like that highest-created being, man ? Are you a 
victim in any other sense than disliking to hear un- 
palatable facts ? Do you not remember that when I 
was a child you corrected my faults by telling me of 
them ? 

“ Let me remind you of a case. 

“ In your law books was this passage : ‘No one shall 
eat mince pies, dance, play cards, or play any instrument 
except the drum, trumpet, or jew’s-harp.’ 

“ That was one of your Connecticut laws, but it did 
not interfere with the habits of your own household. 
On this record I accidentally spilt some ink, which fact 
was of no serious consequence, yet you thought it best 
to chastise me. 

“ As I stood before you with downcast eyes, flushed 
cheeks, and fluttering heart, I felt that I was a great 
culprit indeed. My crime seemed too enormous to con- 
template. With the most deliberate manner and over- 
powering and sepulchral tones you tried my case. 

“ ‘Jessie,’ said you, with a fearfully sceptical look as 
you emphasized your words with your index finger, 
‘ Jessie, do you love uncle Sam ? ’ 

“ Your mere suspicions that I did not, threw me into 
hysterical sobs, and I affirmed in every possible way that 
my love was bounded only by my size. But you pro- 
ceeded : ‘ If you loved him, could you upset the ink on 


MINCE PIES. 


25 


his laws ? If you loved him, could you be so unhappy ? 
If you loved him, why aren’t you a boisterous, kicking 
boy instead of a trembling little girl ? Hadn’t you better 
go supperless and be shut in the dark closet for an hour ? 
Eh, my dear ? ’ 

“ The twinkle in your eyes did not in the least assuage 
my grief, for those terrible charges, yet stood against me. 
I knew I loved you dearly, but the evidence seemed 
against me. And I felt sure that none but a very wise 
man could use such admirable logic, ask such miraculous 
questions, or prove true what I knew to be false. 

“ Let me ‘ make believe ’ that I am a grand lady talking 
to you. I ’ll try to feel wise as you were when you 
punished me, and you — you can keep still and listen as 
I used to. 

** Mr. Samuel America, do you love all your sons and 
daughters and desire equally to protect and sustain 
them ? 

“ If so, could you give liberty to one and not to the 
other ? 

‘‘ Could you proclaim your sons political despots and 
your daughters the political equals of felons, lunatics, 
and idiots ? 

If you loved us, wouldn’t you give all women the 
power to hold men in bondage this century as all men 
held them in the one just passed ? And would n’t you 
beg women to hang you for your tardy justice ? Eh, 
Samuel ? 

“Now isn’t that the ’cutest little old-time play that 
ever was? And its questions are not hard either. 
Hard ’s no use, for you can answer any thing I know. 


26 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“Make-believe aside. I want to tell you of a pitiful 
thing occurring here last week. Under promise of mar- 
riage, a poor young girl was betrayed and deserted by 
her lover. Becoming a mother and being penniless, she \ 
stole clothing to wrap her babe in and was lodged in 
jail for trial. Only by the utmost effort did the merciful 
people secure her freedom. But her partner in guilt 
went forth into the heart of society a respectable (?) 
gentleman. 

“ Why should this vice, which destroys all hope of 
woman’s restoration to society, and shuts her outside of 
every home, be considered so lightly when found in 
man, — be smilingly referred to as ‘a little wild oats ? ’ 
Should not women, as well as men, sit on juries where 
these cases are tried, and help decide what morality is ? 
Are men who betray innocence competent judges of 
women criminals ? 

“ It cannot be repeated too often that no woman has 
ever been given a fair trial on any charge, since none has 
been tried by her peers. Judges, jury, lawyers, and law- 
makers are all masculine. And I believe I may say the 
law books also, since their contents are composed, 
printed, studied, and enforced by men. I always fancied 
that each book should be bound in lustreless black cloth ** 
and tied with knots of black crape as emblematical of 
the tomb of justice. But this may be only a morbid 
idea. Anyway, these male accusers, animate and in- 
animate, are incompetent judges for a class different 
from themselves. We want the feminine mind in law 
books and on juries. Women with families and household 
duties need not assume the responsibility of new work. 


MINCE PIES. 


27 


There are many others who would be glad to serve and 
to exchange the hardships of their own work for the 
ease, idleness, and good pay of jurors. And as those 
competent to serve must always swear that they under- 
stand nothing about the matter on which they are. to 
pass judgment, ignorance seems the only necessary 
qualification. Therefore the ' weak-minded ’ women 
would be shining candidates for position. 

“ But we are debarred by the assurance that we are 
too pure and delicate to take part in these matters. This 
kind of talk is very pretty — very pretty indeed. But do 
those who give out such taffy believe what they say ? 
Assuredly not. Do we ? It is quite impossible. So 
long as women commit crimes, they are not too good to 
assist in legal decisions. We are not angels ; we are 
only women. And if the worst of our sex have to be 
tried, the best of women-kind should sit in deliberation 
as to the proper punishment and remedy. If men are 
too pernicious for women to associate with at such times, 
they are unfit to pass judgment on women, and should 
not be trusted. 

** Were men half as vile as they are represented polit- 
ically, they ought not to be recognized at any time. But 
notwithstanding the dreadful things they say of each 
other, they think themselves good enough to associate 
with women in every place but in the direction of politi- 
cal' equality. They meet in the homes, at church, and 
places of general entertainment. They see no impro- 
priety in taking a woman to receptions, balls, theatres, and 
operas night after night. She may yield to promiscuous 
embrace by whirling wildly through the bewildering dance. 


28 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


She may have bare arms and neck, and thus expose her 
charms to the ogling glances of bad men. But the men 
who parade this half-clad woman through crowded rooms 
would be exceedingly shocked did she dress herself 
properly and attend the polls. It would be so immodest! 

“ Men assure us that our interests are represented at 
the polls by our fathers and husbands. If so, why do 
they not represent their sons and brothers also ? What 
is the use of a whole family of sons leaving the fields 
where they were at work and wasting valuable hours in 
attending elections ? Why does the feeble, gray-haired 
father exhaust his strength to reach the polls when his 
son might just as well represent him ? Probably the old 
gentleman and his son have different principles, and he 
can serve his own interests best by doing his own voting 
— just as women could. 

“ Men tell us that we are not fitted to be free. Perhaps 
not, but how is this to be determined ? Who ever was 
fitted, if we take the evidence of oppressors ? Did Eng- 
land think America fitted to govern herself ? Who 
decided the matter finally ? Would it not be a question 
yet, if the oppressed of heart had not taken matters into 
their own hands and torn their shackles away ? Just so 
will women some day rise in might and power and over- 
throw all the ill-founded theories of men. And when 
they do, men will cower before them and beg for their 
political influence. 

“We are assured that the ballot would ruin us house- • 
keepers and mothers, and to take part in legislation 
would utterly demoralize us. We have seen no such 
results from the experiences of women in other countries. 


MINCE-PIES. 


29 


A queen, an empress, or other ruler loses no modesty by 
holding her position, nor is she a worse wife or mother. 
Let those who doubt it look at England’s queen, — a 
woman whom all acknowledge as a model in her domes- 
tic life ; and she is not alone in this respect. 

“ This injustice to women, this venerable outrage will 
have to hunt some other climate or be devoured by the 
fires of a just indignation. America’s sons and daugh- 
ters are developing out of the mental and moral darkness 
which gave countenance to this wrong. Many of them 
no longer respect a crime simply because it is sanctioned 
by law and religion. They believe that right is right 
and wrong is wrong wherever it exists. They have 
ceased to look upon women as God’s lowest creation. 

“ Lovingly, 

“ Jessie.’* 




CHAPTER V. 

JUVENILE ORATORY. 

‘ ‘ If right made might 
In every fight, 

The world would be the better for it.’ 

T he next letter I received from my uncle was 
so bulky, and filled me with so many anticipa- 
tions, that I almost thought I heard the robins 
in the distance. But the idea vanished as soon as I 
touched the package. I had the singular impression 
that I got the odor of my uncle’s thoughts. Not that 
ideas ever had odor that I know of, yet the fancy haunted 
me. Holding the letter quietly and closing my eyes, I 
indulged in the foolish hope that I had some faculty, 
heretofore unsuspected, of gaining information from an 
unopened epistle. And in this mood I seemed to sense, 
rather than smell, a sulphur-and-brimstone odor, and 
see with my closed eyes its pale, blue flame. 

Sure enough, on opening the letter it contained four 
pages of what might vulgarly be called thunder-and- 
lightning oratory, the subject being based on my “play ” 
questions. My uncle was in a rage, and I knew I must 
let him quiet down a while before broaching the subject 
again. 


30 



JUVENILE ORATORY. 


31 


I went outside where Lena Madison, Lulu Hill, and 
Bessie Bell had been engaged for hours making flags, 
mottoes, and banners for their grand dress-parade, which 
was to take place in my front yard. 

When every thing was complete about a dozen boys 
assembled with their drums, fifes, and horns, and joined 
the little girls. As the music (?) struck up and the girls 
were falling into line, the boys insisted on taking their 
paraphernalia away from them. They argued (just like 
little men) that girls should be ashamed to march any- 
where only in school or funeral processions, and doubly 
ashamed to display banners. Even Archie screeched 
out at the top of his voice : 

’Omans d’want ter carry flags (flags). ’Omans orter 
be in der winders holdin’ der babies ter see der nice sojer 
mans." 

In vain had the girls worked on their banners, paint- 
ing thereon a tri-colored American eagle of such marvel- 
lous proportions and attitudes that it was suggestive of 
an elephant trying to balance himself on his trunk. 

Away went the boys down the street, heedless of all 
argument or persuasion, and leaving the girls in tears 
and disappointment. 

In my pity I spread them a lunch under the maple 
trees, and read them stories to beguile them from their 
ills. They brought their books and dolls, and impro- 
vised a platform by throwing a bright rug over a large 
box. They had songs and recitations which they were 
taught at school, and having heard compositions and 
lectures, they tried their powers in that line also. Bes- 
sie gave us a learned treatise on “ Cats " ; advising 


32 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


milk as their diet, and catnip-tea as their medicine. And 
informing us that “ mice is the only toys that kittens 
love.” 

Lulu Hill spoke on “ Dress,” concluding as follows : 

“ I do love to eat too much cake, but hate the medi- 
cine what cures it. When I ’m a big lady I ’ll wear a 
green velvet dress with no neck or sleeves to it, and tied 
with a pink sash and long ear-drops. Papa says clothes 
with clean all over them is the finest for us all. And so, 
little children, mind your parents, and that ’s all I know 
about dress.” 

Just here the young soldiers came inside, and the girls, 
— womeri-like — forgave their rudeness and invited them 
to join in their amusements. They insisted that Bill 
Mercer, whose father was a politician, should make a 
speech, and he therefore proposed the subject of 
“ Money.” He was not at all backward, but threw his 
fists in the air and raved as if he were defying his audi- 
ence to hit him on the nose. He insisted on the circula- 
tion of paper-coin or silver currency. “ If not,” said he, 
“ the country will bankrupt and bust ‘ higher ’n a kite.’ ” 

Bill made a happy hit in this prediction, and was loud- 
ly applauded. 

Other speakers followed till it came Tom Hill’s time. 
He was the largest one of the crowd, and inherited his 
father’s gift of speech. What a fine-looking lad he was 
as he stepped lightly upon the platform. He brushed 
the dark curls from his forehead with one hand, thrust 
the other in his pocket, and coughing slightly several 
times, he began : 

“ I don’t believe in women a- voting. 1 say what good 


JUVENILE ORATORY. 


33 


would it do ’em ? We don’t want our wifes a-cutting of 
their hair like our’n, nor a-wearing greasy wrappers and 
blue stockings. No women with blue stockings is fit for 
our wifes, nor nothin’ but old maids. In proof of which 
I refer you to my immortal namesake, Thomas Moore, 
of whom I am proud to stand before you to-day.” 

(Tom was named for the poet and never failed to tell 
it when opportunity offered. And he invariably proved 
every knotty question by that illustrious, but happily ab- 
sent witness.) 

“ Fourthly,” continued the orator, arriving rather sud- 
denly to that clause in his remarks, “ we don’t want our 
manly little sons ” (here Tom looked with parental fond- 
ness on the boys) a-rocking of the cradles.” (Roaring 
approval from the “ sons.”) 

“Us men don’t want to eat sour bread and muddy cof- 
fee. No, not much, we ’d druther have waffles and honey. 

“ We don’t want our wifes a-fighting and gitting drunk 
and voting and spanking the young ones.” (Shouts of 
“ No, no, no ! ”) 

“ We fought for freedom and our eagle, and he ’s got 
to fly, and no women to fly him neither. 

“ My namesake, Thomas Moore, has often echoed my 
words in his lectures on economy, therefore its simplicity 
is more understandable to all under the droppings of my 
voice.” (“ That ’s so, that ’s so, Tom,” said the men, 
nodding their wise little heads.) 

“ Mr. Prisident and men,” (here Tom bowed gracious- 
ly to the imaginary parties) “ I ’m took entirely by sur- 
prise at this meeting, and quite mixed up like with my 
emotions, which is very much overcome. 


34 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ Thirdly,” (Tom was evidently going back to first 
principles,) “ allow me to say with my namesake, Thomas 
Moore, ‘ Give me liberty and give me death.’ ” 

There was a volley of applause from the men, but the 
women showed no appreciation of Tom’s efforts. The 
eagle trouble had, as they believed, been aggravated, 
and they forgot their shyness in the renewal of their 
wrongs. There was a whispered consultation, a hurried 
decision, and before we realized her intentions Lena 
Madison sprang on the platform. Her cheeks were 
flushed, her hands clasping each other nervously, and 
her voice trembling with emotion. She forgot herself in 
her resolve to defend her friends and cause. With a lit- 
tle stutter on the first word she said : 

“ La — ladies — and boys, I ’m tooken as much by sur- 
prise as Tom, but I ’m not afeered to say we ’re bound 
to vote. Mammer says so and she knows.” 

(This assertion was met with a low but very tantaliz- 
ing sound much like the mewing of cats.) 

“ As to the eagle, I think Mr. Hill ” (looking at Tom 
with bitter scorn) “ ought to be ashamed of hisself for to 
mention it, when we women painted him three colors. 

“ What was all these great pol-i-tick-ers a-doing while 
we was at work ? Why, a-playing leap-frog that never 
had no learnin’ in it. And Tom told another about us 
a-fighting. And oh! did n’t we have such a nice, nice 
lunch ? My ! ” 

(Here the men exhibited great uneasiness, and some 
signs of repentance as they cast looks of enquiry towards 
the lunch-basket.) 

“ Mr. Tom’s mighty onposted on his subject, and so ’s 


JUVENILE ORATORY. 


35 


that feller he ’s named for. If he don’t love sour bread 
he can eat some that mamma makes. She ’s a woman’s 
righter, and knows all about sufferin’ and cookin’ too. 
Hers is sure ’nough good bread, with butter and sugar 
on it.” 

(This argument was weighty, I judged, for the men 
showed great propensity to chew paper, the ends of pen- 
cils, and even their hat rims.) 

“ My congregation, I can’t put poetry in my talk like 
he did in his ’n, but I ’ve got the last word and hope you 
may all enjoy the same blessing. I can’t think of nothing 
more at present till the next time, so good-bye.” 

Lena’s talk was rather on the scrap-bag order, but on 
the whole was to the point. It won two ardent converts 
in the persons of Bennie and Archie. 

“ Boys,” said Benny, “ Lena’s mamma ’s nice. Her ’s 
not s’prised all the time and hollerin’ — ‘ C-h-i-l-d-u-r-n ! * 
That ’s what my mamma always says.” 

“ Tom,” shouted Archie, “ I likes Lena’s kind of 
’omans best, I does. ’Cause they ’s got eversing good 
ter eat an’ your’n ’s not. An’ your mamma spanks too 
orful. I likes laughin’ ’omans w’at gives little boys some 
bread an’ butter, wif shooder on ’t,” 

“ You bet,” said Benny, as he gave his chum a slap on 
the shoulder and stuffed the remnants of the lunch in his 
mouth. 



CHAPTER VI. 

OUR UNCLE AT HOME. 

“ O wad some Power the giftie gie us 
To see oursels as others see us.” 

I N the executive mansion, half reclining in an easy 
chair, was uncle Sam. His portly form was enwrapped 
in a handsome dressing-gown, and his slippered 
feet were on the table among his papers, pipes, and 
tobacco. He was convalescing from a dreadful spell of 
ophthalmia, which had threatened the total destruction 
of his sight, and he was confined to darkened rooms. 

Sometimes his eyes were tied up, as the physicians 
directed, but, becoming impatient, he occasionally threw 
the coverings on the floor and closed his eyes from what 
light there was in the room. He had a large stock of 
real and imaginary wants, and as his wife “ belonged " to 
him, he demanded her entire time and strength for his 
welfare. If, by some happy chance, she sat down a 
moment to rest her weary body, her lord invented new 
duties to start her feet again on their endless rounds. 

Sympathetic, obliging, and incomparably unselfish, she 
gave her life to her husband in those daily services, 
which he failed to appreciate. She keenly felt the 
weight of his domineering spirit, but uttered no com- 

36 



OUR UNCLE AT HOME. 


37 


plaint. Her face was always tranquil and her voice and 
manners gentle. There was no sign of suffering till she 
lifted her eyes. They unconsciously told the story and 
were inexpressibly sad and hopeless. But love for her 
husband, deep, unfathomable, self-sacrificing love, was 
the secret of her endurance, and the main-spring of her 
life. 

Uncle Sam’s heart was all right, but his habits were 
wrong. He had unintentionally and quite unconsciously 
become a petty domestic tyrant. He hated this trait in 
others, but was incapable of detecting it in himself, and 
no one was venturesome enough to tell him. Indeed, 
the information would have been followed by violence, 
because uncle Sam could never have pardoned such an 
insult, nor have believed such a charge. His appearance 
would certainly not indicate it, and his life in public was 
considered most exemplary ; yet the fact remained, he 
was not a kind husband. 

That morning his wife had a message from her cousin 
Prudence Hall, imploring her to go to the writer, as she 
was very ill. But aunt Sam sent her loving regrets, and 
said that sickness in her own family obliged her to stay 
at home. Moreover, her twin sister, Gracie Prim, was 
expected, and she must welcome her, as they had not 
met for years. 

Uncle Sam professed much dislike for Gracie, but 
knowing she was really an excellent lady, he was 
ashamed to forbid her visit. In truth, he was only 
prejudiced because of her advanced views regarding the 
position of woman. She was neither noisy nor offensive, 
but she was firm and well-informed. Her brother-in- 


38 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


law dreaded her influence on his wife and had adroitly 
prevented their association. While his wife was writing 
he fell into the following soliloquy : 

“ I wish Grace would stay away, for old maids’ heads 
are always full of silly notions. I ought to pass laws 
forbidding women to live single lives. Some poor, 
neglected man needs them to wait on him, and they 
ought to be compelled to marry. 

“ Grade must be a fright now, since the fever left her 
lame and with such poor eyes that she wears dark 
spectacles. I ’m fortunate in not being able to see her 
distinctly. She was a nice young girl, but has too much 
literature in her head to suit me. I wish she was in 
Jericho, hanged if I don’t ! I want no new-fangled 
ideas put in my wife’s mind ; no innovations of estab- 
lished customs. I ’ll not allow her to think of these 
matters. 

“Why, there was little Jessie Bell, the very apple of 
my eye when she was a child, affectionate, obedient, 
and timid. But now — what in the name of Moses 
possesses her? Talks about voting. Ha! ha! That 
would be fine, I say. Very fine for my ward. Why, the 
pert youngster tries to make it appear that I — I am 
faulty. Ridiculous stuff ! ” 

At this point in his reflections he walked lightly to 
a cabinet, took out a large black bottle labelled “ Tinc- 
ture of maize,” and fondled it tenderly. The label was 
only a pleasant fiction designed for strangers’ eyes. It 
not only concealed the true character of the bottle, but 
gave it a respectability that a black bottle without a 
label could not claim. 


OUR UNCLE AT HOME. 


39 


After generously testing the virtues of the tincture, 
^ncle Sam put the bottle in his cabinet, smacked his lips 
with great satisfaction and to his wife’s gentle remon- 
strance replied : 

“ Nonsense, nonsense ! Though the grain of corn 
might be harsh in the human stomach, in this state it is 
harmless. What frightful attacks of illness I might 
have did I not use the precaution to tone up my system 
wdth this.” 

His wife shook her head doubtfully as she recollected 
that it was the remedy for all his ills. He said that when 
he was warm it cooled him, when cool it warmed him, 
when tired it refreshed him, when sad it cheered him, 
and when happy it made him happier still. There was 
no time or condition when it was not beneficial. 

After reading her letter to her husband, aunt Sam’s 
determination to stay at home with him was heartily 
endorsed. For he actually enjoyed a ‘‘comfortable” 
spell of sickness and the sympathy and coddling 
attending it. He was now out of pain and able to 
enjoy an invalid’s luxuries. So, in further approval 
of his wife’s letter, he put his hand on his broad 
chest and forced upon her attention an extremely 
violent, but very harmless cough, — a cough that said, 
in a cough’s peculiar language : “ Hear how these 

lungs are affected ! ” After recovering from the ex- 
haustion (?) it produced, the invalid took some more 
tincture and for some time afterward sat in quiet con- 
templation. 

Aunt Sam was busily engaged darning when her hus- 
band suddenly jumped to his feet, slapped his side, and 


40 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


laughed till his face puffed up like a boiled pudding. 
The act startled her, and she was fully convinced that 
the epileptic stroke she ’d secretly feared had come at 
last. Her anxiety was increased when, after regaining 
his voice, he cried out : 

“ I have it, I have it.” 

“ Have whaf^ ” was the excited wife’s enquiry. 

“Why, the idea, of course. Send for Jane Barlow to 
visit your sister. She hates all women who aspire to 
any thing but drudgery, and she never knows when to 
stop talking. Gosh ! I think I hear her now, with her 
high voice and bad grammar ! She ’d be a fine offset to 
Gracie. I fear I ’d kill myself laughing at the duet 
they ’d keep up.” 

Aunt Sam’s face was very sorrowful as she replied : 

“ It ’s unkind of you to treat my dear sister so ; and 
anyway, poor Jane was buried six months ago.” 

“ Buried ? Whatever was she buried for ? ” 

“ Because her husband got drunk and murdered her.” 

“ Old Barlow killed his wife ? Well that ’s too bad of 
him, and a disappointment for me. I wanted some fun. 
Let me think what ’s best to do.” 

Drinking again from the bottle from which he ’d al- 
ready had too much, he said to his wife : 

“ I have decided that you had better go to Mrs. Hall’s, 
after all, and stay there while Gracie is here. I do not 
consider her a proper associate for my wife.” 

“O husband! how can you speak so? You who 
know so well how pure and noble my sister is. Do not, 
I pray you, deny me the happiness of seeing her for 
whom my soul has hungered for years. Must we, who 


OUR UNCLE AT HOME. 


41 


were nursed together at the same breast, rocked in the 
same cradle, and who slept in each other’s arms through 
our happy girlhood — must we be parted forever ! ” 

Aunt Sam’s voice was trembling and pathetic as she 
said this, looking beseechingly into her husband’s stern 
face. She put her hand gently on his shoulder, but it 
was rudely shaken off. 

“ Wife, you know how I hate a scene, so do not make 
a spectacle of yourself, as if I were a monster. You can 
perhaps see your sister some other time, but not now. I 
am resolved.” 

“You ’ll not insist ; you ’ll not be so unreasonable as 
to drive me from home ? Dear husband, let me think 
this but the thoughtless freak of a sick man. You have 
been confined in-doors till you are nervous, and perhaps 
the liquor has — has ” 

Uncle Sam cut his wife’s remark short by the enquiry : 
what 1 Do you believe I am drunk ? Then, 
madam, you are greatly mistaken, for I was never 
clearer in my mind than at this moment. Prepare your- 
self at once and go.” 

“ I cannot leave you uncared for ; it is wrong to insist 
on it. For God’s sake, husband, revoke your com- 
mand ! ” 

The words were uttered in a plaintive cry as the 
speaker dropped tremblingly into a chair. After a mo- 
ment’s silence she was met with the stern inquiry : 

“ In your marriage vows did you not promise to obey 
me?” 

“But, dear husband, I could not conceive of your 
making such cruel requirements of me. I — I ” 


42 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ Enough. Another question : Are you a Christian ? ** 

“Assuredly. At least, I strive to’ be.” 

“ Then remember, woman, that your Bible says : 

‘ Therefore, as the Church is subject unto Christ, so let ^ 
the wives be to their own husbands in every thing ’ ! 
Have I not a right to demand obedience ? Now, say no 
more, but be off on the afternoon boat.” 

After useless pleadings. Aunt Sam found she had 
obeyed a tyrant too long to rebel. Religion and custom, 
God and the laws fastened the fetters on her, and she 
dared not resist. So in a few hours she bade her house- 
hold good-bye, and touched her husband’s cheek with 
her trembling lips. She knew he was too obstinate to 
yield an opinion after expressing it, and she felt grateful 
for so much even as the pressure of his hand. 

At the wharf, much to her surprise and joy, she met 
Gracie, and they both went to the house of a dear 
friend, and were closeted together for hours. A full ex- 
planation of Aunt Sam’s domestic affairs was given, and 
plans of relief discussed. Then Gracie went out into 
the city alone, and made several purchases, which, when 
they were examined in private, created some amusement 
for the sad-hearted woman. 

“Now, my dear sister,” said Gracie, “let me prepare 
you for the part you must play. Our complexions, 
forms, features, and voices are almost exactly the same. 
But my hair is black and curling, while yours is white, 
and worn in a knot. This wig fits you admirably, and 
conceals completely the white hairs of the ‘ first lady in 
the land.’ And the style of dressing it makes such a 
change in your appearance that you will hardly recog- 


OUR UNCLE AT HOME. 


43 


nize yourself. Having worn black so long, you will feel 
a trifle gay in my brown dresses, but they are becoming. 
You know I am a spinster, and have studied the effect of 
colors. Now, dear, let me add these dark glasses to 
your outfit, and the disguise is complete. See ! ” 

Standing together before the mirror, the sisters de- 
cided that their resemblance was perfect. 

“ I challenge the world to tell us apart, or to discover 
your identity, provided — you limp. Do not forget, 
madam, that you are slightly lame,” said Gracie, laugh- 
ing. “ And now let us take out a few articles and ex- 
change our trunks, so that our disguises will hold out, 
and our names and those on our linen correspond.” 

Next morning, after a loving farewell, the sisters sep- 
arated, each going her way, and thinking of the experi- 
ment on hand. 

When Miss Gracie Prim was announced at the man- 
sion she was received with more politeness than affec- 
tion. The host addressed her as “ madam,” hoping to 
impress her with the feeling that she was nothing nearer 
than a guest. But in her anxiety to see her sister, this 
formality seemed unnoticed. But finding Aunt Sam 
away, she was greatly disappointed and chagrined. She 
plied her brother with questions till he was somewhat 
confused in his replies. The extent of the information 
was that his wife’s visit was unavoidable, and indefinite as 
to length of time. 

Gracie suggested that perhaps she herself had come in- 
opportunely, and that she had better return home till her 
sister’s arrival. But uncle Sam would not risk a second 
visit, so assumed a hospitality he did not feel, and in- 


44 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


sisted on his guest keeping him company in his wife’s 
absence. This she finally consented to do, and settled 
down as the mistress of the home till the rightful mistress 
came. 

That evening she and her brother chatted about old 
times and the sport the twin sisters used to have in being 
mistaken for each other. 

“ I hardly knew you apart myself,” said uncle Sam. 

But if my poor eyesight may be trusted your hair is as 
black as ever, while my wife’s is almost white. But her 
eyes are excellent, and there she has the advantage of 
you and me. Can you see to read through your dark 
glasses ? ” 

“Yes, sir ; and I hope to be of service to you in that 
way.” 

“ Thanks, for your kind offer, madam, but my hearing 
is so poor of late that I have difficulty in understanding 
a reader, though now is the time when I would like such 
entertainment. I have no company excepting those 
with whom I necessarily transact business. I fear you 
too will feel dull.” 

“ Have no regrets, for I am not partial to social excite- 
ment. I shall be quite happy if I can in any way serve 
you or add to your comfort during my sister’s absence. 
I know how lonely you must be without her.” 

Gracie’s last remark made her brother wince, but her 
manner was so sincere that he almost forgot his preju- 
dice. 



CHAPTER VII. 

MISS prim’s story. 

O N the third day of her visit Gracie Prim said : 

“ I see this morning’s paper has an article re- 
garding the propriety of putting women on the 
Board of Education.” 

“Yes,” said uncle Sam, “that maybe done eventually. 
But men are the only persons who should hold such 
positions.” 

“ Are not women interested and competent ? ” 

“ Perhaps some of them are, but it ’s not the custom 
for them to act.” 

“ But since you have the forming of customs, why not 
change this one ? ” 

Uncle Sam moved uneasily in his chair as he answered : 
“ I dislike the responsibility. Moreover, madam, I don’t 
like discussing such matters with ladies.” 

The speaker evidently thought the subject closed, but 
he was self-deceived. With a slow, steady voice Gracie 
enquired : “ Why, is there any thing vulgar in the school 
question?” 

“Vulgar?” said uncle Sam, hastily. “Of course not. 
But ladies can’t discuss such things.” 

“ Is it possible my sister has lost all taste for educa- 
tional interests ? ” 


45 


46 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ No indeed, she and I often talk them over, but we 
always agree." 

Gracie smiled quietly at this prevarication, as she 
added : “ I suppose if there ’s never a disagreement, you 
make it a point to give way to my sister’s opinion ? ” 

“/give way ? ” said her brother, momentarily thrown off 
his guard, then determining to be agreeable, continued : 

“ Yes, I would do so if there were occasion, but there ’s 
not. Nice, is n’t it ? ” 

“ Very,” said Gracie, with mental reservations. “ But,” 
she continued, “ if it ’s only the discussion you wish to 
avoid, may I tell you something about the school board 
in my native town ? ” 

“ Proceed,” was the gracious reply. 

“ I have a dear friend,” said Gracie, “ a widow with 
several children. She is delicate, intelligent, and con- 
scientious, and taught school to support her family. One 
morning she came in my room breathless with excite- 
ment, her eyes full of tears and her face flushed with in- 
dignation. She threw me a paper to read, and dropped 
her face in her pretty hands and wept. 

“ The paper was a testimonial that even school boards 
become but petty tyrants when allowed too much 
authority. 

“ The one I refer to was composed entirely of men, 
while all the teachers, excepting the superintendent, were 
women. This board required the teachers to give up 
their individuality, and in a measure their self-respect 
also, to become fully qualified for work. They were 
compelled to make a promise which was utterly unnatu- 
ral and almost impossible to fulfil. 


MISS prim’s story. 


47 


“ But what else could the poor ladies do ? Many of 
them were hundreds of miles from home and friends, 
and were obliged to teach for their bread and butter. 
There was no time left for them to seek other positions, 
and they were necessarily the victims of circumstances. 
A so-called ‘ Teachers’ Contract ’ was invented which all 
lady teachers were forced to sign before beginning their 
duties. I will give you an extract verbatim : 

** ‘ And I further agree that I will resign my position 
whenever requested by the Board of Education or the 
superintendent of said schools, and will ask no reason 
why such request was made, nor will I blame or censure 
any one on account of it, nor claim compensation from 
the date of resignation.’ 

This contract, if we may so misuse the word, was 
binding on only one party, and that party the women. 
With it was a resignation which they were obliged to 
sign and leave with the Board. Thus : 

“ ‘ I hereby offer my resignation as teacher in the public 
schools of this district.’ 

“ The resignation was dated on the day the school opened^ 
thus compelling all lady teachers to sign away their 
rights to compensation before their work began. 

“No matter how long they worked or how badly 
they were treated, the Board could discharge them with- 
out pay and there was no redress. Every thing depended 
on the whims of its members, or those of the superintend- 
ent ; for that one man was given power to discharge the 
teachers without giving any excuse whatever. When men 
are so lost to all sense of justice towards our sex, do you 
wonder that we want women on Boards of Education?” 


48 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Uncle Sam listened with various outbreaks of temper 
before this story closed, and then exclaimed : “ May 
Satan roast me ! if I ever heard of such a dastardly 
plot. I look at it from a business point only, and 
am thoroughly disgusted. Was it ignorance or vicious- 
ness that concocted such a diabolical scheme as that ? ” 

“You are not the first enquirer on that subject, but 
having no personal acquaintance with the Board, I can 
give you no information. Draw your own conclusions." 

“ Did the widow teach under that contract, madam ? " 

“ No, indeed. She and several others refused to sub- 
mit to such an outrage. Residing in the place, she was 
not quite as helpless as some of her less fortunate sisters. 
She taught a private school and did better financially, 
than if she had held a position under the tyrannical rule 
of her enemies." 

“Good for her! Now tell me the plucky woman’s 
name, please ? " 

“ Her name, sir, is Marcia Madison." 

“What!" said uncle Sam, as he sprang to his feet, 
“ those fellows did n’t dare treat my niece like that, did 
they ? How I ’d like to lay this cane across their backs ! ’’ 
In his excitement he struck some furious blows on the 
table. 

“Brute force, my brother, is not the remedy. We 
have too much of that already. We need more human- 
ity in government. But, sir, I fear I wrong you, and it 
is time anyway for your morning nap. Let me arrange 
your pillows, lower the window shades, and ’’ 

“Thanks," said the invalid, “but I will not trouble 
you." 


MISS prim’s story. 


49 


I fear you think me a poor nurse, for although I am 
anxious to assist you, I am permitted to do but little. 
I understood you needed constant attention before I 
came.” 

“True, my wife did many little trifles for me. She 
must be busy to be happy, you know.” 

“ But somehow I can’t forget that infern excuse 

me, but I was just about to curse that school board.” 

Grade smiled as she looked at the warm-hearted old 
man, who could not see others impose on helplessness, 
but who blindly did it himself. 

“ Lest I be a restraint on such a pleasure,” said she, 
“ I will retire.” 

When she reached her own room she locked the door 
and stood before her glass contemplating herself very 
critically. Taking off her glasses and her wig, reflected 
before her was the amused face of aunt Sam. 

“ Is it possible,” she said, “ that my husband can be so 
little care, and treat me with so much courtesy ? Yet 
were he to discover my disguise I would feel utterly lost. 
I dread recognition all the time, but the bolder I am and 
the stronger in argument the less danger of detection.” 

Then putting on her disguise again she wrote as 
follows : 

“ Dearest Grade : — It is wonderful, positively wonder- 
ful, how well your plan succeeds so far. Our resem- 
blance to each other shall work a blessing in my house- 
hold if I am not mistaken. I shall confine myself to 
y6ur real character and bear in mind your assurance 
that it is for the good of us all that I make this daring 
experiment. I am afraid of forgetting my character and 


50 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


putting my arms around my husband’s neck and telling 
him who I am. For oh, I love him so well, notwith- 
standing his severity ! And — and, he surely does think 
of me often, and longs to see me. I ’m so afraid of 
being discovered by the servants, especially Sarah and 
John. But I never forget I ’m lame, O dear ! what a 
hypocrite I am, yet it must be for the best. 

“ Now that you are away to cousin Hall’s, I feel lonely 
and timid too, in my self-imposed task. Do not feel un- 
kindly towards my husband. His heart is good, and I 
know he surely loves me. His conduct is the result of 
custom and inheritance and not a voluntary, personal 
cruelty. Forgive him for my sake ! ” 




CHAPTER VIII. 

AN INFAMOUS LAW. 

T he first time I wrote my aunt after her character 
of an actress, I addressed her by her assumed name. 
“You ask me again, dear Gracie,” I said, “about 
my schoolmate and neighbor, Edna Wolfe. As you 
remember, her husband was once a professor in a 
noted college, but his habits being bad, he lost his 
position ; but not before he had met and won his wife. 
In a very short time after her marriage Edna realized 
her mistake and knew her happiness was wrecked. 

“She suffered every conceivable indignity from the 
man who had sworn to love and protect her. He had 
all the vices known to mankind, and not only squandered 
Edna’s money (for he had none) on improper characters, 
but brought them into her home and forced her to asso- 
ciate with them. Disgusted and horrified by her sur- 
roundings, she fled from her accursed home, but was 
soon overtaken and brought back ; the husband insti- 
tuting suits against parties who sheltered, or, as he ex- 
pressed it, ‘ harbored ’ her, and giving her twenty lashes 
for her ‘ insubordination.’ ” 

“Almost distracted with grief and pain she fell ill, and 
her child was prematurely born— a nervous, fretful little 

51 



52 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


creature, with thin features, startled eyes, and little vital- 
ity. But while it brought sleepless nights and weary 
days to its mother, it brought also the inexhaustible 
mother-love — a love which only increased with the 
knowledge that her little one would, should it live, be a 
hopeless cripple. The physician said that the cruelties 
inflicted on the mother had produced this dire affliction 
on the babe. The father showed no remorse whatever, 
but abused his wife for the disobedience that compelled 
him to whip her. 

“ After it was a few weeks old, the unnatural father, the 
monstrous brute, inflicted blows on the child itself, leav- 
ing the print of his cruel fingers upon its quivering flesh. 
This act was almost the death of the wife as she lay upon 
her bed weak and frightened. How she loathed and 
despised the presence of the fiend to whom she had bound 
herself. How she wondered at her infatuation in ima- 
gining him worthy of love or respect. Now that his 
mask had fallen and exposed his debased nature, she 
could find no redeeming trait. Neither could she forgive 
herself for the fatal blindness that led her into such an 
alliance. 

“ How she prayed for strength to endure her trials, and 
being a devout Christian she believed her prayers would 
be answered. She had the simple trust of a child, and 
thought that justice must be done. But alas ! those who 
suffer must know how visionary that faith is. 

“Year after year brought no change in her conditions, 
save an increase of poverty, cruelties, and family. Every 
year or two added another little victim to the miserable 
home. But the conditions of motherhood were so un- 


AN INFAMOUS LAW. 


53 


favorable that most of these children filled early graves. 
And while their mother mourned their loss, she realized 
it was best for them. 

“ Within the last two years Professor Wolfe has been 
travelling agent for a business firm out West. He there 
met young Anna Brown, an orphan girl, who made a 
comfortable living by teaching school. To this lady. 
Professor Wolfe represented himself as being a single 
man. He brought fictitious credentials, and the inex- 
perienced girl had no doubt of his worthiness and sin- 
cerity. 

“ After an acquaintance of some months he besought 
her to be his wife, but desired their marriage to be kept 
secret awhile, his interests requiring it. He haunted her 
continually, and after reproaching her for want of proper 
confidence and love, she consented to marry him. 

“ That was over a year ago. In a few months after- 
wards, her pupils, associate teachers, and acquaintances 
generally, shunned her. Then she was told that her ser- 
vices were no longer required. She pleaded piteously to 
retain her position, telling them that her daily bread de- 
pended on her own exertions, as she was entirely alone in 
the world. One fatherly old instructor finally explained 
that while her work was satisfactory, her social position 
seemed very questionable. 

In a moment the truth flashed through her mind, and 
she was nearly paralyzed with grief. But so poorly can 
the human feelings be read, the blanched face and plead- 
ing eyes of the girl were only taken as evidences of her 
guilt. She made no answer to the charge brought against 
her but this : * As God is my witness, I am innocent ! ’ 


54 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


She dared not defend herself, for her husband had 
wrung from her a promise of deathless silence till he should 
remove the seal from her lips. The story of his visits to 
Anna was abroad, and circumstantial evidence was against 
her. But innocent and pure at heart, she could not un- 
derstand how others could think her wicked. 

“ Crushed, ashamed, but utterly helpless, she crept 
back to the little room that she had called home, not 
knowing how soon her landlady would turn her out. She 
wrote the circumstances to her husband, and implored 
him to come to her rescue. But so many weeks had 
passed since she heard from him that she almost de- 
spaired of ever doing so. 

“ The next day she went from house to house in that 
great city begging for work. The sewing and housework 
were all that she could hope to secure, and to such as she, 
these were denied. As a rule, the few women who 
looked on her with pity had nothing to give, and could 
not take her into their homes. Their lives were hard 
enough without adding new cares. 

“ Ten months of her married life passed away, and for 
three of these she had heard nothing from her husband. 
She wrote as usual to the address he had given her 
(which was not a correct one), but had no reply. Her 
suspense became almost intolerable, and she imagined al- 
most every thing but the truth. 

“ Meanwhile the Professor had been to the city on one 
visit, of which poor Anna knew nothing. Being in his 
cups, he in his coarse, brutal way, told the deception he ’d 
used with the school marm.’ He said that a hack-driver 
had performed the ceremony which she believed legal. 


AN INFAMOUS LAW. 


55 


“ For this piece of information, his employers gave him 
his discharge, with the additional promise of lodging him 
in jail ; but he fled before they could procure an officer. 

“ Deserted, alone, shut up in her dreary room, her for- 
mer acquaintances found poor Anna. And to add to her 
misfortune, a young babe was dependent upon her. She 
had used up the small pittance saved from her salary, 
and she had neither food nor fuel. Since learning the 
story of her deception and disgrace, life had no value. 
She could not meet the scorns and scoffs of the world, 
nor the pity of the merciful, if such there should be. 
In this morbid condition of mind, she looked upon the in- 
nocent babe who must henceforth share her shame, and 
she vowed she would rid it of her presence. Crazed and 
desperate, she stole from her room one night to an orphan 
asylum. Ringing the bell, she laid her babe in the arms 
of an attendant, and fled through the friendly darkness. 
She was followed, but not found, till her sorrows were 
buried in the broad bosom of the Mississippi. 

“ ‘ Take her up tenderly. 

Lift her with care ; 

Fashioned so slenderly, 

Young and so fair.’ 

** I Started to tell you of Edna, but her history would 
be incomplete did I leave out the fate of Anna ; for in 
her childhood she had known and loved Edna. But 
through late years she had lost all trace of her. When 
her story came out in the papers, and Edna upbraided 
the Professor for his wickedness, he became furious and 
dealt her blow after blow till she became insensible. Be- 


56 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


coming alarmed for the safety of her life, she applied for 
separation and divorce and received it. But she had no 
support, and only the mean little home in which she lived 
was left. That would soon be sold under mortgage. 

“ The court gave the custody of all the children to the 
father. There were two little girls between the ages of 
three and five, whom the father permitted Edna to keep 
for a while. But poor cripple Robbin, the eldest girl 
(about twelve), and the infant son at the mother’s breast, 
were claimed at once. The daughter was taken to a low, 
dirty boarding-house, and made to work in the kitchen. 
Robbin was bound out to the proprietor of a whiskey- 
saloon to wash glasses, make fires, and do other chores. 

Robbin clung to his mother’s neck crying bitterly 
and praying for her protection. ‘ Oh ! mamma, my dear, 
dear mamma, don’t let me go ! Don’t let me go ! ’ 

“ These words burnt like fire in the mother’s soul, but 
she was powerless to shield her gentle, delicate child. 
She had rather see him die than enter the vile den where 
he was going, but alas ! there was no escape. He would 
probably fill a drunkard’s grave ere he arrived at man- 
hood ; or at best, become familiar with all the lowest 
conditions of life. And her daughter too would lose her 
innocence and sweet timidity, and boldness take their 
place. O God ! ’ cried the wretched mother, ‘ I placed 
my trust in Thee ; but Thou hast forsaken me in my 
greatest affliction ! ’ 

“Yesterday Edna sent for Charley to get his profes- 
sional advice, hoping that he might devise a way in 
which she could keep her baby. Like most wives, she 
knew not how rigid the laws were in such cases ; or 


AN INFAMOUS LAW. 


57 


that she had no more legal power over her children than 
have the Southern slaves over theirs. The law regard- 
ing children is, that the father ‘ is entitled to their labor 
and custody ; and has power to dispose of them until 
twenty-one years of age, even though they are unborn at 
his death.’ 

Only think of this monstrous outrage to a mother’s 
feelings ! A father has more right to his children even 
after his death than the living mother. Again : ‘ The 

law is perfectly clear as to the right of a father to his 
legitimate children, of whatever age they may be.’ 

“ O Grade ! how can Uncle Sam allow such a blot as 
that on the face of this fair country ? It is one of the^^ 
laws made for the benefit of just such fiends as the Pro- 
fessor. 

“ When Charley went to Edna’s I accompanied him. 
She was nearly as white as the bed on which she rested. 
So etherial was she, that we would have thought her 
spirit had deserted its frail tenement had we not seen her 
large sad eyes. 

“ Beside her on the bed was the little speck of hu- 
manity, the dear new baby-boy. Its head lay upon a 
wee mite of a pillow, and its limbs were moving and 
pushing busily under the cover. The picture reminded 
me of these beautiful lines : 

“ ‘ Under the coverlet’s snowy folds 

The tiniest stir that ever was seen, 

And the tiniest sound, as if fairy folk 
Were hiding under a leaf, I ween. 

“ ‘ That is the baby, he came to town 
Only a day or two ago ; 


58 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


But he looks as wise as if he knew 
All that a baby can ever know. 

* There he lies in a little heap, 

As soft as velvet, as warm as toast, 

As rosy-red as the harvest moon 
Which I saw so big on the hazy coast. 

I took the wee thing in my arms and thought with 
dread of the time when its heartless father should claim 
it. He whose brutal touch might crush the tender little 
creature. How must its mother feel in contemplating 
this matter ! 

“ I was a mother myself, and there was nothing holy in 
that relationship that I had not experienced. I knew so 
well the pressure of the baby-hand and head upon my 
breast. I knew the thrill of joy in a mother’s heart 
when her baby’s lips drink from the fountains sustaining 
its young life. I knew the whole tender baby history, 
and the all-prevailing mother-love. And I pressed the 
downy head to my heart and wept the sympathy that 
words could not express. 

“ I thought of the agony I should feel did the inhu- 
man laws of the country sever my own little ones from 
me. 

“ Edna had stated her case to Charley, and holding 
out her hands beseechingly she said : * Tell me, in pity 
tell me, I may keep my babe ! Let me have him a few 
years, just a few ! Its father has robbed us of our 
bread, has unprovoked given me blows which will in- 
jure me through life, and is a wicked, dissolute man. 
Is there a law protecting him in crime and punishing 


AN INFAMOUS LAW. 59 

US for being sufferers ? Is my husband the suitable 
guardian of innocent infants ? ’ 

“ ‘ Mrs. Wolfe,’ said Charley, ‘ the law does not uphold 
men in personal violence to their wives to the extent 
practised by your husband. Had he caused your death 
he would have been punished the same as other crim- 
inals. But the law allows a man to give his wife mod- 
erate chastisement with a sticky not specifying very closely 
the full intention of the word ‘ moderate.’ Men who 
whip their wives never stop to weigh the matter. 

“ ^ In regard to the custody of children — that right is 
the father’s no matter how vile his character nor how 
pure his wife’s. Take what comfort you can in the two 
little ones your husband allows you to keep. For them 
he has no present use, for this infant he has. He will 
give it to a wealthy couple who have no children of their 
own. They will leave it heir to their fortune. Its father 
will be rewarded, and also reap the pecuniary benefits of 
your larger children’s labor. No law gives the mother 
guardianship and possession of her child unless it be il- 
legitimate.’ 

“ Poor Charley ! His voice was husky and his face 
pale as he pierced that frail, sensitive mother’s heart with 
that hateful fact. ‘ It is a cursed, cursed law,’ said he, 
‘but it exists.’ 

“ ‘ Then there is a premium on sin,’ said the despair- 
ing mother. ‘For so well do I love my helpless child, so 
much do I pity it and fear its future, that — God forgive 
me ! — I wish it had no father to acknowledge it. I wish 
it were mine ! May Heaven curse the man who robs a 
mother of her babe ! ’ 


6o 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Weak, exhausted, and apparently lifeless, the speak- 
er fell over on her pillow. And only after prolonged ef- 
forts to resuscitate her were we successful. 

“ After comforting her as best we could we left her in 
j charge of her nurse, and returned home to discuss what 
we could do. Perhaps a compromise might be had with 
the husband, as after all it was only money (and petty 
revenge) that he wanted and not the child. He would 
be willing to sell that to the highest bidder. There was 
yet some time to pass before we expected him to call for 
the little one, and we prayed that something might occur 
to delay matters. 

“ We could take no tea in our home that evening, our 
souls were so troubled with their weight of human sym- 
pathy. We tried to rally, but succeeded so poorly that 
even the children sensed our depression. 

“ Bessie sang as tenderly to her favorite dolly as if it 
were conscious of her love, and Archie begged to be 
rocked. ^ Papa,’ said the dear little fellow, ‘ Archie 
wants ter cry ’bout somethin’ but don’t know w’at. 
’Spect he ’s sorwy.’ The sensitive little soul felt in- 
tuitively that we were in sorrow. 

“ Looking at baby Dot, whose rosy face rested upon my 
breast, I said : ‘ Charley, do you believe women mascu- 
line for wishing to abolish the laws that crucify them ? 
Do you think they deserve such monstrous legislation ? 
Do you blame them for their rebellion ? ’ 

‘ “ I say no, dear wife, to all your questions. And as I 
hope for mercy through life for my own wife and little 
ones, I will hereafter use my best efforts in behalf of the 
cause you espouse.’ 


AN INFAMOUS LAW. 


6i 


I drew his dear face to me and kissed it again and 
again ; my heart was too full for mere words. 

“ I have much to say to you yet, but my letter is already 
too long. 

“ Sadly yours, 

“Jessie Bell.” 



CHAPTER IX. 




RUDIMENTAL LIBERTY. 

“ All shall be given to feed thy mind 
With love and pity for thy kind, 

And every sympathy refined." 

O N the rare occasions when aunt Sam received 
letters, her husband desired her to read them 
to him. It was therefore not strange that he 
should modestly hint his wish to hear those of Gracie 
Prim. That lady was neither surprised at the request 
nor reluctant to grant it. “It is from Jessie Bell, and 
since you are not able to read, I ’ll take pleasure in 
doing so for you.” 

With that remark she gave him the story of Edna 
Wolfe, her auditor often dropping his head in a thought- 
ful manner. When she was through, he sat in deep 
silence for some time before he spoke. 

“ I protest against any intentional wrong towards my 
subjects, but see that some of my laws are not perfect. 
Knowing your dislike to my administration, I would like 
a detailed account of your reasons. What are your 
views regarding laws now in usage, or ever existing, for 
your sex ? ” 

“ I will try to recall some,” said Gracie. “ But before 
62 


RUDIMENTAL LIBERTY. 63 

I do so, will you permit me to review some of your first 
acts towards your people, both male and female ? ” 

“ I wonder, madam, if, with the inconsistency of your 
sex, you are going to advocate the rights of man ? ” 

“ No, my good brother, not in an exceptional way. 
My prayer is for human rights for all. And while I 
readily admit that you are incapable of intentional in- 
jury, you are nevertheless instrumental to much persecu- 
tion and viciousness. In your immature years you issued 
mandates whose existence might make you blush to-day ; 
and others which you would not now have the nerve to 
see enforced. Many of them are doubtless forgotten by 
you, yet they are the ready tools of vicious men. Let 
us look a few of them over and reason together, for — 
* He who cannot reason, is a fool ; who will not, is a 
bigot ; who dare not, is a slave.’ 

“ In the mother country you were greatly persecuted. 
Taxed without representation, governed without your 
consent, and restrained in your religion, you felt the need 
of personal freedom. You trampled on the fetters which 
bound you, and setting up a home of your own, you in- 
vited the oppressed of earth to share your happiness and 
protection.” 

Yes, yes,” said uncle Sam, whose heart glowed with 
patriotism at the recollection of these events, “ I ex- 
pressed myself in this grand principle: ‘We hold these 
truths to be self-evident, that all men are endowed by their 
Creator with certain inalienable rights, among which are 
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ; that to secure 
these rights governments are instituted among men, deriv- 
ing their just powers from the consent of the governed.” ’ 


64 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Certainly, sir, those words show your noble inten- 
tions and proclaim the cause of your wonderful growth. 
Yet, in the confusion and inexperience of building a Re- 
public, you fell into error, and the very heart of this 
principle was lost. You violate your own promises, for 
women are taxed without representation and governed 
without their consent.” 

After a moment’s reflection uncle Sam replied : “ But 
women are of a religious nature, and in that direction 
there are no restrictions. My law is that * Congress shall 
make no law respecting the establishment of religion, or 
preventing the free exercise thereof, or abridging the 
freedom of the press, or the right of the people peace- 
fully to assemble and petition the government for a 
redress of grievances.’ Do you not see madam, how 
particular I was to give liberty of conscience to all my 
subjects ? ” 

“ True, sir. Yet, while this generous promise was yet 
echoing through the New World and startling the Old, it 
proved, in reality, to be a failure. You permitted intol- 
erance here just as other rulers did in the country you 
left. Cruel laws, like slimy serpents, crept into your do- 
minions, fastening their fangs in their wretched victims 
— their poison running through the nation’s veins and 
tainting the very heart of Liberty. Hear these contra- 
dictions of your promises : 

“ ‘ The government and magistrates convened in Gen- 
eral Assembly are the supreme power, under God, of this 
independent dominion. From the determination of this 
Assembly no appeal shall be made.’ 

^ No dissenter from the established worship of this do- 


RUDIMENTAL LIBERTY. 6$ 

minion shall be allowed to give a vote for electing of 
magistrates or any other officer.’ 

“You passed laws that freemen alone should vote, but 
recognized none as freemen but church-members, thus 
excluding about three fourths of the people from exer- 
cising the rights of suffrage. 

“ Taxes were levied to support the gospel, attendance 
on public worship enforced by law, oaths of obedience 
to the magistrates were required, and none but church- 
members were eligible to office. Roger Williams lifted 
the only voice against this odious statute. He publicly 
declared that conscience should in no way be bound by 
the authority of magistrates ; that civil government should 
protect the people in the enjoyment of equal rights. 

“ For such sentiments this brave man was condemned 
for heresy and banished from the territory, for the 
slightest departure from orthodox doctrines was called 
heresy, and all heretics were forced to be outcasts, and 
against all opposition of the clergy, a representative gov- 
ernment was established.” 

Here uncle Sam became impatient, and said that 
Gracie had not yet shown a case where women were per- 
secuted for conscience’ sake. He accused her of bring- 
ing up these historical events simply to evade the ques- 
tion at issue. 

“ My brother, you are greatly mistaken,” said she. 
“ Though I spoke of the intolerance shown to men, it 
was not for want of women martyrs, for next to Roger 
Williams came Anne Hutchinson. She was the first 
woman who dared to advocate religious toleration in this 
country. She desired to speak on religious subjects and 


66 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


at debates, but the elders refused her, and said that 
women had no business at these assemblies. 

“ Anne called meetings of her own, and pled for 
freedom of conscience with so much fervor and elo- 
quence that she converted the governor himself. Then 
there was a call made for a meeting of the Synod of New 
England. They declared Mrs. Hutchinson and her 
friends unfit for the society of Christians, and had them 
banished from the country. 

“When Ann Austin and Mary Fisher arrived in your 
country, they were banished because they were Quakers, 
and shortly afterwards eight others, men and women, 
were arrested and sent back to England for the same of- 
fence. Your laws were made to exclude them from the 
country. Whipping, the loss of* one ear, and banishment 
were penalties for the first offence ; on second conviction 
the second ear was cut off ; and should the criminal re- 
turn, his tongue should be bored through with a red-hot 
iron. 

“ In the face of these dangers Ann Burden came from 
London to preach against persecution, and for this brave 
act was seized and beaten with twenty stripes, and the 
death penalty passed against such speakers. And in 
suffering these persecutions women were put on an 
equality with men, and honored (?) with the severest 
penalties of the law. 

“ In some of your colonies the Episcopal Church was 
established by law, and dissenting was declared a crime. 
In others, those who refused to worship according to the 
ritual of the Calvinistic Church were expelled from the 
country. This was the liberty of conscience given your 


RUDIMENTAL LIBERTY. 


67 


people. By what method of reasoning your early laws 
could be construed into a ‘ religious toleration ’ I know 
not, for they were used to propagate and enforce the 
* established ’ religion. And people were compelled to 
renounce all convictions contrary to that dogma. 

“ Closer and closer the yoke of intolerance was fitted 
to their necks as different members of your family be- 
came your co-workers, each putting the burden upon 
his fellow-man till he could bear no more. And for the 
denial of witchcraft, innocent women were either executed, 
or their flesh crisped in the lighted faggots till the bones 
were bared and life extinct. 

“ The celebrated minister. Cotton Mather, was greatly 
the cause of this, as, preaching witchcraft, the truth of his 
doctrine could only be established by murdering those 
who denied it. Mary Cory was among the first victims, 
and five other women were hanged in one day. For the 
same offence, one hundred and fifty people were impris- 
oned at one time. Many were tortured into the false 
confession that they were witches, hoping thereby to 
escape the death penalty. 

“ So, my dear brother, you see that even in religion 
women were made especial victims ; being accused 
(wrongfully), tried, convicted, and executed by men for 
crimes of which men afterwards confessed they were not 
guilty.” 

I had forgotten many of the incidents you mention,” 
said uncle Sam, they are of such ancient date. And 
you must admit that no such things occur now, and that 
there is no restraint upon religious opinions.” 

“ You are again forgetful of edicts promulgated years 


68 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


ago, wherein all heretics are liable to the death penalty. 
Let me quote one of your standing laws : 

“ ‘ If any person shall hereafter, within this province, 
willingly, maliciously, and advisedly, by writing or speak- 
ing, blaspheme or curse God, or deny our Saviour, Jesus 
Christ, to be the Son of God, or shall deny the Holy 
Trinity, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, or the God- 
head of any of the three persons thereof, or the unity of 
the Godhead, or shall utter any profane words concern- 
ing the Holy Trinity, or any of the persons thereof, and 
shall thereof be convicted by verdict, he shall, for the first 
offence, be bored through the tongue and fined twenty 
pounds, to be levied of his body. And for the second 
offence, the offender shall be stigmatized by burning in 
the forehead with the letter B, and fined forty pounds. 
And for the third offence, the offender shall suffer death 
without the benefit of clergy.’ ” 

“ But hold on a minute, madam, that is one of my old 
laws, and not intended for to-day. Do not confound the 
past with the present, please.” 

“No sir, I will not. Though enacted many years ago, 
this law still exists in this very city, as it has never been 
repealed. Like a loaded gun in the hands of a child, it 
is ready to destroy some one at any moment. 

“ An atheist is also punished for his honest convictions, 
as in some vicinities he is not permitted to testify in 
court. His legal rights are withheld, and he is in nearly 
as deplorable a condition as a woman. 

“ Your laws make it possible for bigots and fanatics to 
put their own construction on the words ‘ profane ’ and 
‘ blaspheme.’ Indeed, I am not sure but that you your- 
self ” 


RUDIMENTAL LIBERTY. 


69 


Stop, madam ! there ’s no occasion for you to refer 
to my personal convictions. They are entirely my own, 
and I brook restraint from none.” 

Uncle Sam’s face showed the viciousness of a tiger as 
he hurled these words at Grade. And ordering her to 
proceed with her remarks about his early legislation, she 
continued : 

“ Persons accepting your hospitality found themselves 
entangled in a network of unjust laws, dangerous alike to 
life and liberty. They were beguiled to this country un- 
der false pretences, trusting to your promises of mental 
liberty. 

“ * Will you walk into my parlor ? 

Said the spider to the fly.’ 

“ The fly walked in, and in some cases he reftiained in. 
This was a free country, and he was free (?) to stay 
whether he wished to or not. 

“ In what respect were the persecutions of the New 
World an improvement on the Old ? Were women not as 
well off where they came from as in America ? Does the 
negro enjoy slavery here any better than elsewhere ? Do 
the white men not sell their own sons and daughters ? 
To be sure ; and this kind of traffic exists because the 
colored women belong to their masters, soul and body. 
And the slaves are told that they are in bondage for their 
own goody just as we women are told in regard to our po- 
litical slavery. But we know that rulers are never just to 
a disfranchised class, be they white or black, men or 
women. We know we are unfairly dealt with. We are 
taxed to support the armies of men paupers over the 


70 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


country, to punish our own sex for acts for which men 
go free, and to pay the legislators who create the laws 
which oppress us. 

“ Women are amenable to the laws, fined, imprisoned, 
and hanged, but they are denied all benefits ; they are 
governed without their consent. 

“ These are some of the objections I have to your 
legislations, though far be it from me to undervalue 
the blessings of our country. But in proportion to my 
love and loyalty do I desire its purification.” 

For some minutes after Gracie had ceased speaking, 
uncle Sam slowly paced the floor, his hands crossed be- 
hind him and his head drooped in thought. But fearing 
he might seem weak in the eyes of a woman, he aroused 
himself and answered curtly : “You seem to ignore the 
fact that some of the laws you refer to are not now 
enforced ? ” 

“ Not all, perhaps, but too many of the unjust, if only 
one. And so long as they exist in any form, they are not 
only dangerous among unscrupulous people, but expose 
our barbarity to other natiops.” 

“You use strong language, madam, and I wonder at 
your bold criticisms when you know my power so well.” 

The speaker’s voice was harsh and threatening, and 
his hearer felt an inward tremor, though to all appearances 
she was undaunted. 

“ Truth,” said she, “can never be too bold, and as to 
your power — I have faith that it will yet be an engine 
for the good of humanity.” 

With this reply. Miss Gracie excused herself and went 
to order the dinner. Uncle Sam paced the floor in a very 


RUDIMENTAL LIBERTY. 


71 


restless manner, giving a wicked kick to the dog who 
slept on the mat, punching a hole in the sofa with his 
cane, and finally taking a dose from the black bottle — 
just to settle his nerves. 

“That sister-in-law of mine,” said he, “has the impu- 
dence (or courage) of the old Nick, and her criticisms 
are awfully embarrassing. What an inspiration it was 
when I sent my wife (I wonder how the poor old soul is ?) 
out of this dangerous atmosphere ! I would lose all con- 
trol of her were she here to witness my humiliation. And 
yet — may Satan roast me ! if I would n’t feel proud of 
her if she could reason like Grade.” 




CHAPTER X. 


WOMEN AT WORK. 

“ Though all other joys were mine, 

’Midst those joys I should repine 
If my strong and valiant soul 
Felt the harshness of control. 

“For one day with freedom spent 
Yieldeth more sincere content, 

Than a whole eternal round 
In the chains of slav’ry bound.” 

F or a few days, uncle Sam and his visitor made no 
reference whatever to the subject they had so 
warmly discussed. Indeed, it was scarcely re- 
membered since the arrival of some exciting “Foreign 
News.” Uncle Sam and his cabinet were greatly in- 
terested, and although he complimented his wise men 
by consulting with them, he reserved to himself the right 
of decision. He secretly suspected some of his daily 
associates of treason, and felt that he must be very cau- 
tious indeed regarding his acts. There were matters to 
investigate of which he did not wish even his private 
secretary to know, and he was greatly distressed in deci- 
ding how to send or write private messages. 

“It 's too confoundedly provoking that I can’t see how 

72 


WOMEN AT WORK. 


73 


to read or write any more,” said he, ‘‘and I am only 
liberated from those bandages over my eyes to be cov- 
ered with a pair of hideous goggles. If I have any 
private messages to dictate, I must shout them out from 
the housetop.” 

It was n’t quite that bad, but the poor impatient old 
man was greatly fettered. For, although he suffered 
little acute pain, his eyes had a bruised feeling, and a 
white film had grown over them. He could scarcely dis- 
tinguish one person from another. 

After he had fretted and scolded awhile. Grade mod- 
estly proffered her services as amanuensis, which were 
ungraciously declined with the remark that women had 
no heads. 

“True enough,” said his sister, “but can you not use 
your own head and my fingers ? Let me be the mechan- 
ical instrument through which your ideas flow.” 

After several suggestive snorts and much hesitation, 
uncle Sam acted upon this proposition, dictating mes- 
sages while Grade wrote them. 

At first, he was very reserved about his work, neither 
explaining nor discussing any thing. But, after commit- 
ting several errors to which his attention was cautiously 
directed, he found himself consulting Gracie’s judgment 
and confiding his greatest political secrets to her. Be- 
fore their day’s work was done, he discovered that 
woman’s wit and quick intuitions were great factors in 
his perplexing business. 

One day, after they had conquered a host of diffi- 
culties, he asked Gracie to read a letter just arrived from 
Jessie Bell. It was as follows : 


74 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Cousin Marcia’s address which you read in the 
papers was the first ever delivered here (by a citizen) on 
the suffrage subject. She did herself and cause much 
credit. I ’m delighted that you show no disposition to ; 
abuse her, and I hope yet for your conversion. 

“ But Elvira — you can’t guess in a thousand years 
what Elvira is going to do, so give it up and I ’ll tell 
you. That high dame’s ire and jealousy were excited by 
Marcia’s spirited address, so she intends giving my 
cousin a taste of her anti-suffrage viands. She, mind 
you, who thinks a woman ‘ out of her sphere ’ on the 
platform. Oh, this is consistent, this is rich ! Were it 
not for Charley’s mortification I would enjoy it hugely. 
When Elvira told him what she intended doing, he held 
up both hands in affected amazement, and yelled: ‘ Chil- 
dren, Elvira, children ! ' 

“ Archie and his cousin Benny are charmed with your 
last box of toys, and have been hard at work writing 
their thanks. This herculean task was performed as a 
kind of literary duet, Archie being the principal vocalist 
by way of dictating, and Benny doing the instrumental 
or mechanical part. This the little chap accomplished 
by holding a slate on his knees (which were drawn up 
almost to his chin), spelling aloud and chewing his ‘ 
tongue while his little face was thrown into painful con- 
tortions. 

“ Archie dictated while climbing backward and for- 
ward over the top of the sofa ; or when trying occa- 
sionally to lift himself by his red-topped boots. With so 
much physical and mental strain, you may well believe 
the little acrobat was nearly exhausted. No public doc- 


WOMEN AT WORK. 


75 


ument ever gave its author more serious thought than 
that simple message gave those children. With the ex- 
ception of punctuation I copy verbathn : 

‘“Dear Unkel Zam: — We uns is glad you has 

SUCH SNICE, GUD, SWEET CHILDURNS TO GIV DRUMS AN’ 
THINGS TO LIKE US IS. An’ YOU IS SNICE An' SWEET TO. 

“ ‘ W’en we beats drums they hollers ORFUL. 
Drums’ nois is bigger ’n a cryin’ baby, but they 
do’nt cry for their mamma. Never had nothin’ 
but a papa, ’cause drums is men’s. Drums do’nt 

FITE LITTLE BOYS AN’ FLAGS DO’nT WAVE NO CLOSE 
BUT A STIK. 

“ ‘ Missus W’ite baut a new baby. He looks per- 

ZACKLY LIKE HIS PAPA, WIF NO HARE ON THER HEDS AN’ 

« 

A MITEY RED RINKULD FACE. ThE BABY, HE DID’nT 
FECH NO TRUNK WIF LOTS OF KITES AN’ RIFULS IN IT. 

But he brout his piknik in a bottel. 

“ ‘ We uns rote this ourselfs. Xcep our bes’ 

LOVE an’ ESPEKS. 

“ ‘ Benny. 

“ ‘ This haint two letters rited by one boy, but 
jus’ TU boys RIT by one letter. I TACKED IT AN’ 
Benny, he rote it. 

“ ‘ Archie.’ 

“Archie stoutly objected to Benny’s name being 
signed, and Benny to Archie’s. They did not think of 
adding them both. They were quite charmed to find 
that I comprehended the whole situation, that Archie 
‘ talked it and Benny wrote it.’ 

“ While I copied it on paper they shook my desk, 


76 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


wriggled my chair, spilt the ink, and in various other 
ways showed their delight. Bless their dear little bother- 
some lives ! 

“ Since cousin Marcia’s speech a suffrage society has 
been organized here. It adopted the following resolu- 
sions, whichTwere drafted by a prominent suffrage asso- 
ciation : 

‘ Whereas^ the essential elements of Deity, justice and 
wisdom, are already recognized in the Constitution ; and 
whereas^ our fathers proposed to establish a purely secular 
government in which all forms of religion should be 
equally protected ; therefore, 

“ ^ Resolved^ That it is preeminently unjust to tax the 
property of widows and spinsters to its full value, while 
the clergy are made a privileged class by exempting from 
taxation $1,500 of their property in some States, while in 
all States parsonages and church property amounting to 
millions of dollars are exempted, which if fairly taxed 
would greatly lighten the national debt, and thereby 
the burthens of the laboring masses. 

“ ‘ Resolved^ That thus to exempt one class of citizens, 
one kind of property, from taxation, at the expense of all 
others, is a great national evil in a moral as well as 
financial view. 

“ ‘ It is an assumption that the church is a more im- 
portant institution than the family ; that the influence of 
the clergy is of more vital consequence in the progress 
of civilization than that of the women of this Republic, 
from which we emphatically dissent.’ 

“ Only think of it, dear uncle, the women of this coun- 
try have not only to plead for justice for themselves, but 


WOMEN AT WORK. 


77 


also for toleration in man for man. Sex-rule has come 
to this. Is it not evident, then, that in the government 
of all classes of the union, male and female minds would 
work the very benefits required ? 

“ The resolutions passed by those women disprove the 
assertion men make, that did women vote, they would 
help the priests put God in the Constitution. Sensible 
women have no desire to destroy mental liberty or to 
throw our country into another civil war. They know 
if the church people put God in their hearts, they ’ll not 
need him elsewhere. 

“ Government boasts of separation of church and state, 
yet gives all possible favors to the church ; taxing 
people of all other kinds of religions, that Christianity 
may be propagated ; forcing these views into our schools 
and upon people who have no confidence in such 
dogmas ; robbing the widow and orphan that the clergy 
may thrive. Yet the men who so outrage the principles 
of our government dare to withhold the ballot from 
women on account of their religious convictions. O fie, 
fie ! 

“ My belief is, that so long as the government recog- 
nizes Christianity as the only religion, just so long will 
Christianity have the government by the nose. All re- 
ligions upheld by a government are intolerant. If not, 
why should the Puritans have sought another land ? 

“ The fact is, uncle Sam, the priests are gradually get- 
ting you under their thumbs. Like so many busy spiders, 
they lurk in their dark pulpits spinning their webs of in- 
tolerance and winding them around your neck ; you are 
caught like a fly, and you buzz and kick and beat your 


78 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


wings against the invisible threads that bind you, yet you 
are only the plaything of your cunning captors. 

“You pay them, as chaplains, to say your prayers for 
you ; you exempt them from taxation ; you have their 
Bibles, in your schools ; you punish your subjects for 
violating their Sabbath, thus breaking God’s laws to 
accommodate his servants — for God expressly said (ac- 
cording to the Bible) that we were to keep holy the 
seventh day of the week. Yet you — through the clergy — 
encourage all manner of work on that day, and select the 
Sabbath-day for rest. You yourself, not only violate 
the day that God commanded you to keep holy, but you 
force every one else to do the same thing. 

“You seem to forget that while the people at large are 
forbidden business pursuits or amusements on the Sab- 
bath-day, that it is the one selected by the clergy for their 
especial labors, and the time on which they invariably 
collect the filthy lucre. How can you set such an ex- 
ample for the public and at the same time speak of the 
sin of laboring on the Sabbath ? 

“With all these inconsistencies in men, what one of 
any conscience can dread worse results from women’s 
political power ? It might give them an opportunity to 
save souls. So far, they have only been subordinates in 
the church, receiving neither honor nor money. This fact 
shows very plainly where injustice to women originates. 

“ If woman’s physical labor for the church be accept- 
able to God, why should n’t she occupy the pulpit as a 
teacher ? Would that be any more ‘ unwomanly ’ than to 
sing in the choir ? She could certainly speak with as 
much ease as she could play ; and since she is com- 


WOMEN AT WORK, 


79 


manded to keep silence in the church (and does n’t do 
it), preaching would not be as loud as singing ; it would 
require no talent, as music does, nor half the expendi- 
ture of breath and strength. A woman would not have 
to neglect her family and home to attend rehearsals for 
her sermon, while for choir practice she does. Why is 
the line drawn at preaching ? Why may not a good 
woman occupy the altar which her labor and perseverance 
erected ? Here is a mystery (?) that only the clergy can 
explain. 

“But let this pass while I pay my respects to other 
points in your letter. You say : ‘ In all the years of my 
married life your aunt has uttered no complaint and 
expressed no opinion on the subject of enfranchisement 
for women. She is a model woman, and one I recom- 
mend you to more closely imitate. She would be horri- 
fied to hear your views.’ 

“ If she never expressed her views, how can you know 
what they are ? Believe me, dear uncle, deep down in 
her heart are fires of discontent which, should you stir, 
would rise in mighty flames. ‘ Must not earth be rent 
before her gems are found ? ’ 

“ Do the lines of care on my aunt’s patient face ever 
trouble you as they do me ? Do you wonder what 
brought them there ? Do you ever imagine that she may 
have some hope or ambition of her own which is unaU 
tained ; or that her heart may hunger for sympathy 
it never received ? Did you ever wonder if her ideal of 
a generous, unselfish, tender-hearted man was, in any de- 
gree whatever, different from you ? 

“ Have you shared your honors and blessings with her. 


8o 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


or have you left her to drift alone into obscurity ? Have 
you believed that to fear and obey you was the only ob- 
ject of her creation, and that she has no higher aspira- 
tion ? If so, I pity your awakening to your error. 

“ ‘ Unhappy he, who lets a tender heart, 

Bound to him by the earliest ties of love, 

Fall from him by his own neglect, and die 
Because it met no kindness.' 

“ Jessie." 

Uncle Sam studied over this letter very much, and 
gave great weight to the hints regarding his wife’s dissat- 
isfaction. He wished from his inmost heart that she was 
at home again, but he was too contrary to ask her to 
return. 

“ But," said he, with a puzzled expression of counte- 
nance, “ what ’s in Jessie’s mind about me not being my 
wife’s ideal? Blamed if I don’t believe that girl’s gone 
crazy ! But the twits she gives me about the church 
having me. by the nose have too much truth in them. 
I ’ve realized the fact for some time. And I know, also, 
that if I muzzle the press, as I ’m sometimes asked to 
do, that we ’ll have another war, — a war for mental 
liberty." 




CHAPTER XI. 

THE FRIENDLY GRAVE. 

T here seemed to be no limits to the suffering 
caused by one as thoroughly mean man as Professor 
Wolfe. Yet, low as he was, he had much influence 
with some of the community in which he lived. He was 
intelligent when sober, and planned well to make himself 
necessary to society. Pie gave liberally to the church, 
sang in the choir, and occasionally taught Sunday-school. 
He made himself so useful that the church felt in duty 
bound to deny all belief in his shortcomings, thereby 
giving a countenance to vice which was calculated to in- 
crease it in other directions. 

The Professor was quite popular among politicians and 
office-seekers ; his ready tongue and unscrupulous ways 
being a power in the election or defeat of candidates. 
He even had influence with uncle Sam, because of his 
political strength. But of all the people who used him, 
none respected or trusted him. 

As soon as he left home he began paying his ad- 
dresses to his landlady, who lived in a distant part of the 
city. By his assumed interest in her he won her confi- 
dence before she could discover his real character. By 
some kind of deception and strategy he persuaded the 

8i 


82 


OUR uncle and aunt. 


lonely woman to marry him, and we read the announce- 
ment in the daily papers. Charley immediately inquired 
into the circumstances, feeling sure the woman was de- 
ceived. 

It seemed that she was once a proud and beautiful 
girl and the only heir of wealthy parents. She married 
her father’s clerk, a widower with two little daughters. 
In a year afterward, her husband became involved in a 
quarrel which led to the destruction of his life. At his 
death it was discovered that before his second marriage 
he had indulged in the wildest speculations, and that his 
widow’s property would have to be sacrificed to pay his 
debts. 

Grieved, shocked, and broken in health and spirit, the 
poor woman fell from the lap of luxury into the boiling 
whirlpool of an unfriendly world. Her associates had 
been but summer friends, warming themselves in the 
light of her prosperity, but standing aloof from her mis- 
fortune. 

Then came the great struggle for a support for herself 
and her husband’s children ; her inexperience, poor 
health, and poverty disqualifying her for money-making, 
various things were tried, among them the old starvation 
plan of keeping a few boarders. Hard work, anxiety, 
and continued poverty seemed the only result, till, driven 
almost to despair, she decided to keep a bar in connec- 
tion with her house. That succeeded ; that brought her 
remuneration. But it brought, also, the loss of her own 
self-respect and the scorn of the public. She despised 
herself for the money made that way, yet dared not give 
it up, for it meant bread to her family. 


THE FRIENDLY GRAVE. 


83 


She tried to soothe her own conscience by the recollec- 
tion that all the well-regulated, respectable, and fashion- 
able hotels made money the same way. Nor were they 
censured by the fastidious ladies and gentlemen. Surely, 
then, there could be nothing so very criminal in her fol- 
lowing these illustrious examples. Thus she struggled 
with poverty till it was conquered ; and besides educating 
her children, she saved a neat little surplus, which was 
deposited in the banks. She was about to invest it in 
another and better business, when the Professor came 
along and frustrated her plans. She was no longer free 
to use her own judgment or money. 

The week after his marriage Professor Wolfe went to 
Edna and demanded the baby ; but he found it very ill, 
and the mother walking the floor, trying to quiet its rest- 
less cries. She had lost several children from nervous 
diseases, and she was frightened, lest this one should go 
the same way. Its condition was very critical, and it 
would probably go into convulsions, were it subjected to 
startling noises or rough handling. With this explana- 
tion to its father, Edna gained his consent to let her keep 
it till it fully recovered. But that night he became in- 
toxicated, and returned to the house. With drunken 
oaths he demanded the babe, striding into the room 
where Edna and I sat watching every breath it drew. It 
lay upon my lap, a wet cloth upon its head, its eyes half 
open, and its pulse like a fluttering bird. 

Its father threatened to murder all who stood between 
him and his child, and boasted that the law made him 
its rightful guardian. We could not reason with him or 
make him heed our prayers, and snatching the feverish 


84 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


little babe, he ran towards the door. After a few mo- 
ments’ struggle, Edna fell fainting to the floor, but I kept 
on in my desperate effort to recover the child. 

“ Professor ! ” I cried, “ do you not see that the child 
has a spasm ? Quick, quick, give it to me till I give it 
restoratives ! Help me, help me, or it will be too late ! ” 

The only answer to my petition was a blow in my face, 
and for a moment I was stunned. The ruffian fled be- 
fore I could recover. I soon rallied, and while bathing 
Edna’s temples, and trying to restore her to conscious- 
ness, the Professor returned, looking sobered and horri- 
fied. And ere I knew his intentions, he put the corpse of 
his child in my arms. 

At sight of this all the indignant blood of my heart 
seemed to run like wild-fire through my veins, and I 
momentarily forgot the respect due the dead. Rushing 
after the man who had caused so much misery, I stood 
between him and the door, holding the lifeless body of 
his child towards him as I cried: “ Murderer, take your 
child ; you shall be debarred of its possession no longer. 
Let its cold body lie on your breast all night, for you are 
its legal protector. You have its custody ; its mother 
has no claim. 

“ Place this murdered innocent in the arms of Ameri- 
can Justice, and tell her this is her work. This is her 
tender protection to helplessness. But tell her, also, that 
sometimes death mercifully rescues and protects mothers 
and children from the martyrdom of human law. That 
the grave opens an asylum where the weary find peace ; 
where the talons of the law can never reach and 
desecrate. 


THE FRIENDLY GRAVE. 


85 


“Here, take your child into the street, and proclaim that 
Justice reigns and a father triumphs. Call the women to 
look on this little dead face, and tell them to f marry and 
multiply.* For there are not yet enough victims to sat- 
isfy the hungry jaws of the law.” 

Oh ! I was desperate at sight of the agonies women 
endure because of legal injustice ; and my soul looked 
into that of the wicked man before me till, cowering and 
frightened, he fled my presence. 

But when order and quiet once more reigned in that 
dreary household, I was more resigned to my friend’s 
fate. And I could but utter a prayer of gratitude for 
the baby’s escape from earth’s trials. 

The following day it was buried in a country cemetery. 
On a green hill that overlooked a sparkling river, we left 
the babe, sleeping in its grassy bed like a bird in its leaf- 
made nest. There would the flowers give it their fra- 
grance, the winds whisper their lullaby, the birds sing it 
their cradle-song, till its ashes should mingle with the 
soil and spring into violets. 

I thought of the sad going-home from the grave of my 
baby Charley, years ago, and my heart turned to my be- 
reaved friend in deepest sympathy. I knew how dread- 
ful it seemed for her to leave her little one out there ; 
and how hard for her to realize that it no longer needed 
her care. 

“ Edna, dear,” I whispered, “ do not despair. Be 
thankful your babe escaped the miseries awaiting it. 
Heaven’s laws are those of love we ’re told. If so, you 
will some time claim your own. Be patient — wait.” 

Leading her away I silently invoked mother Nature to 


86 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


keep within her tender care the grave which held our 
darling. 

O’er it, O blossoms, trail along ! 

And dew-drops fall in starry throng ; 

O wild-birds, sing your sweetest song ! 

O Summer, shed your softest glow ! 

O Winter, wrap your purest snow 

About the mound that lies below ! 

That night, between sleeping and waking, Edna dreamt 
that her friend Annie Brown stood beside her bed. 
Holding the living form of Edna’s child to her breast, 
she said : “ I am now this little angel’s mother. In 

return I give you my little waif. Have no fears in tak- 
ing it, for it was my own” 

Edna awoke from this strange dream but to repeat it 
again and again. And so strongly did it impress her, 
she determined to take Annie Brown’s desolate babe to 
her home. We all thought her determination unwise, as 
she was unable to provide properly for the little stranger. 
But she said that however her own child could have 
fared had it lived, this should fare also. 

She had nothing of value but the jewels given her be- 
fore marriage. These had been secreted so long that 
her husband had forgotten their existence ; so she dis- 
posed of them at a fair valuation. 

She then obtained the consent of those having Annie’s 
child in charge to let her adopt it ; and in doing so a 
new interest was created in her life. She had less time 
to grieve for the little one buried, or for her banished 
son and daughter. 

Various stories were afloat regarding the death of her 
infant, one being that its father had purposely murdered, 


THE FRIENDLY GRAVE. 


87 


it. Threats were made for his arrest, but as Edna and 
I felt that nothing would be gained by this, we did not 
encourage it. As a fact, neither she nor I held him en- 
tirely responsible for what he did or for the child’s death. 
It was in a dying condition when he took it, and no 
judge or jury could decide, did they try for years, 
whether or not its death was hastened by its father’s 
rash conduct. We knew that no good could come from 
antagonizing the Professor, and much suffering might 
result. We feared he would wreak his revenge on us by 
punishing his children, for such was his disposition. 

My first impulse was to bring suit against this monster 
for my own personal injuries, but on reflection I knew I 
could n’t. Charley would have to sue, he being (legally) 
the only person injured ; and I knew that wives could 
not appear against their husbands ; so that Edna could 
not be my witness. So there was nothing done with the 
Professor. 

I say nothing, but perhaps I should qualify my speech, 
for Charley had a reckoning with the Professor. In the 
privacy of that gentleman’s room he gave him a severe 
cowhiding ; promising to administer twice as much, 
should occasion ever require it. My family grew to fear 
and dislike Professor Wolfe exceedingly, and in speaking 
of him one evening, Bessie said abruptly : “ I do wish 
he was dead.” 

I reprimanded her for such an expression, but she only 
continued : 

“ But I do ; for he ’s too wicked to live ; so I want him 
to go to heaven.” 

“ Bessie,” said I, “ who could have taught you that 
wicked people go there ! Heaven is for the good, the pure.” 


88 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ It ’s for the worst, too, mamma, if they start right. 
If they die of disease they go straight to the bad place, 
but if they murder people and die on the gallows, they 
start high and go to glory. My Sunday-school teacher 
says so, and she knows. She takes the bad men who 
murder and get hanged, lots of bouquets. So there ! ” 

Charley often read the newspapers aloud ; and be- 
tween their accounts of angelic felons and the example 
of the bouquets, Bessie seemed imbued with false ideas. 

About the time of these home events, the local papers 
were glowing with notices of Elvira’s lecture. “.Mrs. 
Major Hill’s address next Friday night. Remember the 
anti-suffragist champion. Go see the ‘ strong-minded ’ 
quake in their boots, and hear the most talented and 
womanly lady in our vicinity define the proper sphere for 
her sex.” 

This and many other attractive reminders of Elvira’s 
entertainment led us to expect heavy artillery. Her 
work was greatly encouraged by a shy friend named Miss 
Covington. She shyly burthened a married brother with 
her support ; and while visiting Elvira, looked shyly 
about for an oak around which her affections might 
(shyly) twine And aside from the right to this ambi- 
tion, this shy damsel had all the rights she wanted. 

She and Elvira were greatly distressed at the idea of 
Edna taking “ that child ” to raise. They declared that 
Mrs. Grundy would never, never forgive her. And El- 
vira believed it would be far wiser for Edna to give away 
all her own children than to burthen herself with Annie 
Brown’s. She counted as naught all human affections 
and duties. She only remembered with a shudder those 
terrible trials — the children. 



CHAPTER XII. 

A PRETTY FICTION. 

E lvira hill’s lecture did not come off. She fell 
out with the committee who had it in charge, and 
gave the matter up. But her friend, Miss Coving- 
ton, was fired with an ambition to take her place. She 
became the clinging vine (figuratively), and her audience 
the mighty oak round which she twined. Her language 
was choice, her voice cooing, and a vein of piety made a 
pretty trimming for her harshest utterances ; almost con- 
cealing the sting, from careless observers. Her venom was 
hidden in the pretty bouquet of sentimental stuff she gave 
us, like a bee in a poppy. And we who knew how for- 
eign this piety was to Miss Covington’s every-day life, 
must yet admire her skill, though scorning her prin- 
ciples. 

She fitted her own mantle of domestic ignorance upon 
suffrage women — she, poor soul, who knew positively 
nothing about household matters ; who had no experi- 
mental knowledge as to whether loaves of bread were 
raised in the oven, or in the ground ; whether steak was 
broiled after butchering orxooked on the cow and sliced 
off when needed. She knew not whether tea was steeped 
before transportation or after. Her whole harangue 

89 


go 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


was a burlesque of which she and Mrs. Hill seemed en- 
tirely unconscious. Indeed I was quite mortified at the 
situation, from the fact that they were representative 
women. 

In the week following, Professor Wolfe returned from 
a little business (?) trip which called him away during 
the excitement caused by his child’s death. He ’d felt 
some nervousness regarding his personal safety, and 
stayed away till the public should somewhat forget his 
cruelties. The better class of people avoided him, but 
he was occasionally invited to dine or taken out to ride 
with some one who had use for him. 

We were much surprised to hear that he visited at 
Elvira’s, and wondered what secret sympathy they had. 
But we eventually learned that he went to congratulate 
Miss Covington on the sensible views she expressed. 
Such a mutual-admiration party did he and the two 
ladies become that he was persuaded to adopt their 
course and “ squelch ” equal rights for all time. The 
matter was discussed by some of his class of people, who 
urged him to speak publicly on the subject. This he 
did, although many of his acquaintances were so dis- 
gusted with him that they would not listen to him. It 
was publicly understood that he was to review what 
Marcia had said, so Charley and I went to hear him. 
We wished to know whether he would be personal and 
insulting ; as he had a peculiar habit of giving bad im- 
pressions of every lady whom he mentioned. But much 
to our surprise he did not mention Marcia’s name ex- 
cept in necessary references. But he could not resist 
saying that he, being twice married^ should know some- 


A PRETTY FICTION. 


91 


thing of the “inferior minds and unruly tongues of wo- 
men.” He was a ruffian at heart, and no amount of 
whitewash could cover up this stubborn fact. 

But what he said had one excellent effect. It agitated 
the subject, defined the class of our citizens who were 
anti-suffragists, and made the public clamorous for a 
reply to his wholesale charges against my party. A 
committee of our best people invited replies, and among 
others asked me to enter the intellectual conflict. And 
Charley — who ever, ever could have believed it ? — Char- 
ley urged my acceptance. But I was frightened at the 
mere idea of such a literary effort, and suggested those 
who were better qualified. No one, however, seemed 
inclined for the work. 

One day, while weeding my garden, a letter was re- 
ceived from my aunt, the pretended Gracie Prim, in 
which she told me a little secret. Her husband, she said, 
had dictated the speeches of Miss Covington and the 
Professor, and his secretary forwarded them to the 
parties to be passed off among us as original. 

So it was my uncle I had criticised after all. Ah, the 
artful, romantic old soul ! His plot was good enough 
for a play and secret enough for a crime. Yet after all, 
he undertook more than he could accomplish ; and I 
wondered if the poet referred to him when he said : 

“ The best-laid schemes of mice and men 
Gang aft aglee.” 

I concluded he had done all this to call out the 
strength of our party, so as to learn more fully his own 
position in public opinion. He had just written me that 


92 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


some of his laws were not what he intended them to be. 
But he thought there were none making women their 
victims, save those which I ’d specified. I replied to 
this statement at once : 

“ I know nothing of law, dear uncle, save what little 
is forced upon my attention by circumstances. But I 
know that you show a marked partiality for men in all 
laws that I ever chanced to read. For instance : ‘Intes- 
tate personal property is divided equally between males 
and females, but a son, though younger than all his sisters, 
is the heir to the whole of real property.’ 

“Why, may I enquire, should a son, more than a 
daughter, inherit the whole of real property? For no 
reason whatever save that of unjust discrimination ; for 
the fact of sex is no merit of the son’s. 

“ Again : ‘ A mother is entitled to no power but to 
reverence and respect, from her children ; she has no 
legal authority over them, nor right to their services, 
but her property is liable for their maintenance, if the 
father has not estate. The mother’s appointment of a 
testamentary guardian is absloutely void.’ 

“ If parents have not an equal right to the guardian- 
ship, control, and services of their children, why should 
the father receive the preference ? Why should not 
children aid their mother as well as their father? 

“ Since a mother goes down into the valley of death to 
give life to her children, and sacrifices all things for their 
sakes, why should not she receive some compensation, 
if any one ? Why should she not have her children’s 
custody, it be given to only one parent ? 

“ Despite all man-made laws, I claim that the divine 


A PRETTY FICTION. 


93 


laws of nature make a mother the rightful guardian of 
her offspring. In her child’s pre-natal state, nature be- 
stows on her the sacred office and privilege of guardian. 
To a great extent, nature gives her the power of forming 
an immortal mind; of bestowing upon. another such 
qualifications as she herself possesses. And thus she 
strives to be good, noble, and wise that it too may in- 
herit those traits of character. She guards her acts, 
words, and thoughts lest they impress the mind or body 
of the child with some imperfection. 

“ She nourishes it through infancy, nurses it through 
illness, and sleeps with its head on her bosom for years, 
yet the law says she is unfit to be its guardian, and 
unworthy of any benefit it might confer. And on her 
dying bed, she is deprived of the comfort of leaving 
it in the care of a competent person. She may not ap- 
point a guardian. 

“Strange that the innocents cling to their mothers 
more closely than to their fathers. Are their little hearts 
perverted ? Is there nothing pure or perfect but man ? 

“ But I pass on to your further proclamations. 

“ ‘ Money in the hands of a wife at the decease of her 
husband, earned and received by her before marriage, or 
given to her by her husband afterwards, is the property 
of the husband, and passes to his administrators.’ 

“ ‘ The husband, by marriage, becomes entitled abso- 
lutely to the personal property of his wife, which, at his 
death, goes to his representatives ; also to the rents and 
profits of her lands, to the interest in her chattels, real 
and choses in action, of which he can dispose at pleasure, 
except by will.’ 


94 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ Or, in plain words, when a man marries a woman, 
he takes all her property away from her, and makes her 
a pauper for life. She has no redress, because the law 
upholds him in the robbery, and tells her it is protecting 
her. 

“ Again : ‘ If the husband die intestate, leaving a widow 
and issue, the widow shall have one third of his and their 
personalty absolutely, and one third of the real estate for 
life ; if there are no children but collateral heirs, she is 
entitled to the use of one half the realty, including the 
mansion house, for her life, and one half the personalty 
absolutely.’ 

“ ‘ If the wife die intestate, leaving a husband and no 
issue, he is entitled to her personalty absolutely and 
realty during life ; if there are children, her personal es- 
tate is divided between husband and children, share and 
share alike : in either case he is entitled to their joint 
estate.’ 

*‘You see, uncle, the man always comes in for the 
most and best of every thing, the law forbidding any 
thing like justice. If the wife owns all the property at 
marriage, the law takes the last cent away and gives it to 
the husband. At his death it gives her the use of one 
third of property (which is all really hens') and gives the 
remainder to her husband’s administrators. Oh, what a 
magnanimous law ! 

“ ‘ Money earned by the wife while the parties live 
apart belongs absolutely to the husband, at common law, 
irrespective of the circumstances of the separation, so 
long as the marriage relation continues between them.’ 

“ Let any woman doubting that the law is made for her 


A PRETTY FICTION. 


95 


especial benefit read that. Can’t she see at a glance what 
ages of self-denial must have passed over man ere he pro- 
gressed into such an angelic condition ? His generosity 
is overpowering, and really too great a wonder for the 
inferior female mind to grasp. 

“ ‘ By marriage, the husband and wife are one person 
in law — that is, the legal existence of the woman is 
merged into that of the husband.” He is her “ baron ” 
or “lord,” and bound to supply her with shelter, food, 
clothing, and medicine, and is entitled to her earnings, 
the use and custody of her person, which he may seize 
wherever he may find it.’ 

“ My dear uncle, what manly, inspired, and heavenly 
laws these are ! Who could have manufactured them 
but a man, or man-angel ? And where could they ger- 
minate but in his heart, which throbs and glows and al- 
most bursts with love of freedom and justice ? And what 
but woman’s tender welfare and protection (God save the 
mark ! ) could inspire them ? 

“ O ye savages of heathen nations ! O ye barbarians ! 
O ye miserable Hottentots ! — claim not that these holy 
mandates are yours ! For they are the legal stars which 
glow in the firmament of Christianity and civilization ! 

“ The law makes man and wife one, and that one is the 
husband. He may seize what used to be the woman (be- 
fore marriage), restrain her liberty, control her body, and 
possess himself of all her property and earnings. She is 
(legally) neither a person, individual, nor citizen. She has 
no identity aside from her husband, so that we may as 
well consider her of the neuter gender and call her ity 
just as we would the broom or dust-brush. She was not 


96 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


recognized as having a soul of her own for centuries. It 
was as well, probably, for, having a soul, where could she 
keep it, since her body was not her own ? 

“ I doubt if the majority of men credit women with 
having souls, even in the present age. Yet women are 
taxed to pay the chaplains in Congress, to open up the 
political squabbles and fights with prayers ; and taxed to 
pay the great army of ministers (all men), to save men's 
souls. 

“ Yet, are they saved I Can any man prove that all the 
contributions given for this purpose ever saved one soul ? 

“ Wives often hear their husbands taking much credit 
to themselves because of the laws that prevent a wife 
from being sued. They say nothing about the fact that 
she cannot sue others. Her person may be injured and 
her reputation blasted, but she is powerless to bring suit. 

Your law is : ‘ For a personal tort by the husband to 
her person or reputation, the wife can sustain no action, 
and she must rely on the criminal law for her protection, 
or seek relief in separation, or in proceedings for a 
divorce.’ 

“Again: ‘For an injury suffered by the wife in her 
person, such as would give a right of action to any other 
person, a suit might be instituted in the joint name of the 
husband and wife. This suit would be distinct from that 
which the husband might institute for the loss of services 
and expenses, and would embrace damages for physical 
and mental suffering. The damages recovered, however, 
would belong to the husband alone.’ 

“Only think of it ! The wife bears all the indignities 
or pain, and endures all the anxiety, and the husband 


A PRETTY FICTION. 97 

gets paid for it. He, being the only person in the case, 
receives all the recompense. 

“ I wish — I do wish, my dear uncle, that I would n’t 
despise myself were I to use slang or profanity, for I ’m 
just trembling with a desire to say something appropriate 
about that law. I ’d begin it with a D, and gracious only 
knows how I ’d end it. 

“ A married woman has one right, however, for which 
she should doubtless be thankful. If she ’ll only commit 
some unlawful act, she may be sued jointly with her 
husband. Your books say : ‘ The common law holds the 
husband civilly responsible for the conduct of his wife, 
the two, in law, being considered as one person, for the 
purposes of legal redress.’ 

“ But : ‘ As a general rule, a married woman is answer- 
able for her wrongful acts, including frauds, and she may 
be sued in respect of such acts jointly with her husband, 
or separately if she survives him.’ 

“ And : ‘ Another case of responsibility for the acts of 
others is that of the master, who in general must redress 
all wrong committed by servants.’ 

“ There we have it again. A wife and a servant (or 
slave) occupy the same legal positions. Their master 
(the husband) has all their labor and stands responsi- 
ble for their acts. But should he die, the wife is sud- 
denly held as a responsible person and rises to the 
dignity of being sued. Emancipated from slavery, she 
enjoys the blessed privilege of being a criminal. She 
has the benefits (?) of one law at least, to repay her for 
the sorrows of widowhood. O how truly grand and en- 
viable is her position ! 


98 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ One of your laws for the subjection of wives per- 
mitted the husband to ‘ choose her associates, separate 
her from her relations, restrain her religious and personal 
freedom, and chastise her as though she were a child.’ 
And another told what sized stick should be lawfully 
used for that purpose. 

“ O shame, shame that ever such outrages were com- 
mitted on wives and mothers with the consent of legal 
minds 1 

“ The word law is the most important one in our 
language for women, yet the one they understand the 
least. All they do know is, that it is the god of ven- 
geance and persecution which follows them up through 
life. 

“Unjust laws for women might be cited unlimitedly 
by those familiar with them, but more are useless here. 
Enough have been recalled to your mind to convince 
you of the awful aristocracy of sex-government, and 
to prove that we would show less judgment than the 
brute did we not rebel ; less, did we still 'have confi- 
dence in your assumed benevolence for us as a class. 

“Your civil rights teach us that man claims ‘ exemp- 
tion from any restraint that has in view no beneficial 
purpose, and the right to participate in all the advantages 
of organized society. These give the proper liberty and 
insure against undue discrimination.’ 

“ That is exactly what we wish to do : ‘ insure against 
undue discrimination.’ 

“We read in political rights that, ‘The right of the 
English peasant to such property as the law recognized 
as belonging to him was the same under despotic rule as 


A PRETTY FICTION. 


99 


it is to-day ; but the political rights which have been 
acquired by the people have given it guaranties and a 
security which it did not have before. What then was 
often violated with impunity is now assured as com- 
pletely as the experience of the country up to this time 
has shown to be practicable. On the feeling of security 
which political rights afford must mainly depend the 
content and happiness of the people.’ 

“ I most heartily adopt these sentiments as applying 
to my own necessities. There is no security outside of 
political equality, and because of its denial to women 
they are at the mercy of the vicious. Some one well 
expresses it in these lines : 

“ ‘ A weapon finer set, 

And better than the bayonet — 

A weapon which comes down as still 
As snowflakes fall upon the sod, 

But executes a freeman’s will 

As lightning does the will of God : 

And from its force nor bolts nor locks 
Can shield you — ’t is the ballot-box.' 

“ You have instilled into our minds the dangerous be- 
lief that incompetency, subjection, and ignorance of all 
political or business knowledge were our chief virtues. 
That' an irresponsible nonentity was the highest type of 
womanhood. But we are growing out of this fallacious 
idea. We are fast realizing that it is a most deplorable 
thing for one half of your people to be irresponsible 
creatures ; to be clinging vines. 

“ The oak and vine ! What a pretty fiction it is ! 


lOO 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


And being a fiction, how dear to the human heart ! 
We forget that when the sturdy oak falls the vine is 
trampled under foot and loses its charms ; that when 
the husband’s tired hands are stilled his widow is com- 
pelled to stand alone or feel the hoofs of the law bruis- 
ing her aching heart. Alas ! poor vine — poor vine ! ” 




CHAPTER XIII. 

THE AMERICAN HEAVEN. 

“ A little nonsense now and then 
Is relished by the best of men." 

I NEVER witnessed but one trial in my life. It was a 
case regarding the custody of children, wherein they 
were all given to the father. That night I dreamt — 
not of my grandmother — of Heaven. It was situated on 
a big hill, enclosed by iron walls twelve feet high, and 
covered overhead with red, white, and blue bunting. 
When I rapped on the gate, a rusty key grated in the 
lock, and a number of vigorous kicks were applied from 
within before the gate opened. Through the aperture 
peered a wrinkled, old man, with watery eye, tangled 
hair, and red nose. He wore a seedy dress-coat, tall 
white hat, plaid trousers, and spotted necktie. A pipe 
was in -his mouth as he called out in a business-like 
way : 

Tickets ? ” 

His question greatly surprised me, yet I began a nerv- 
ous search for a ticket. But the gatekeeper impatiently 
bade me enter, declaring he had no time to waste while a 
woman's pocket was being sought. As I passed inside 
the enclosure he puffed a cloud of smoke in my face, 


lOI 


102 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


which act I resented with a scornful look and violent 
cough, to neither of which did he pay any attention. 
But, after locking the gate, he sat down in a faded purple- 
velvet chair, tilted it against the wall, drew a Police Ga- 
zette from his pocket and began to read. While he did 
so, I noticed that from his right shoulder hung what 
seemed to be a broken wing, its tip sticking in one boot 
and reminding me of an old shutter hanging by one 
hinge. 

Left to entertain myself, I discovered that sentinels 
were stationed at regular intervals all around the out- 
side of the enclosure. They all wore blue coats, white 
trousers, and red caps ; the latter being decorated with 
sweeping peacock plumes. And on each man was plainly 
visible a well-grown pair of wings. 

While feeling somewhat awed by these angelic orna- 
mentations, I saw a young woman approaching. She 
was dressed in pink cambric with low bodice and no 
sleeves, and her hair was done in curl-papers. Her 
mouth was full of buttons, which she turned about with 
her tongue in a very expert way, but her articulation was 
necessarily poor. As she walked forward, she was busily 
sewing buttons on several laundried shirts which she 
carried on her arm, and she motioned me to follow 
her. We came to a log house, or to what must have been 
a log house had it been situated anywhere but in Heaven. 
It was probably two hundred feet square and was almost 
hidden by lines of men’s clothing which fluttered in the 
air. Through the roof ascended and descended what I 
took to be round elevators, but which were really cone- 
shaped baskets. I could not determine from what source 


THE AMERICAN HEAVEN. 


103 


they came, as they ascended beyond my vision and were 
lost in the dimness of the tri-colored canopy. They each 
held several tons of buttons, which buttons the good 
obedient wives were constantly sewing on their husbands’ 
clothing. 

Just below the roof of the building and around the 
four sides, was a signboard on which were the words, 
“Woman’s Sphere.” 

Entering the house, we were met by the hot air rushing 
outward, the odor of soap-suds and steam, and the music 
of the wash-boards. Large work-bags, the size of feather 
beds, hung in rows against the walls and were filled with 
men’s socks and balls of yarn ; and cases of darning- 
needles lined nearly one side of the room. 

1 had evidently struck the celestial wash-day, for tired 
women lifted their aching backs and hopeless eyes from 
the wash-tubs for a moment, but without uttering a word, 
they went on with their daily tasks. The more feeble 
women were darning and sewing on buttons. 

“ I brought you through here to cheer you up a bit,” 
said my guide in the pink dress. “ I feared you would 
be downhearted.” 

“Was I expected?” said I in surprise. “I should 
smile^'" said the smart young woman, making me feel 
very uncomfortable at thought of angels using slang. 

“ How ’d you get through ? I mean how ’d you escape 
the other place ? ” The girl gave a downward look as 
she spoke. 

As I comprehended her meaning, the cold chills raced 
up and down my spinal column, and I enquired seriously: 

“Was I in danger of — of — the place you refer to ?” 


104 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


My only answer was a sarcastic laugh. But to keep 
up my courage I enquired of my guide if she had been 
long in the place. 

“ Longer than ’s agreeable,” was the curt answer. “ If 
it were n’t for leaving my husband I ’d soon get out of 
this.” 

The young wife dug the toe of her slipper into the saw- 
dust which covered the floor of Heaven, and seemed lost 
in an unpleasant revery. I ventured to ask : “ Why do 
you cover your floor in this way ? ” 

“ ’Bliged to. Where there are so many men around 
drinking, chewing, and spitting, they ’d ruin the floors if 
we did n’t cover them.” 

“Where do you get this sawdust?” 

“From the mills furnishing wood for a warm locality 
which we dub downstairs^ 

“But,” said I, in a bewildered manner, “I thought 
that place was heated by lakes of brimstone and — and 
perhaps gas and coal.” 

“ So it is, madam. But there are people on earth called 
Universalists, free-thinkers, and scientists, who are so 
lost to all sense of eternal justice, that they ’re trying to 
put all those hires out. So the old Governor, as we call 
the boss below, gets all the kindling-wood and inflam- 
matory sermons he can find, to brighten up the fires a 
bit. He ’s afraid he ’ll get up some morning and find the 
temperature below zero, and no blaze to boil the kettle.” 

Not liking the style of this conversation, I gave it a 
bearing in another direction. Said I : “ What becomes 
of the sawdust when it gets impure ? ” 

“We tunnel it under the fence and renew. Women 


THE AMERICAN HEAVEN. 


105 


have this task and it 's unending. We drudge here more 
than we did on earth. As just one item, think what 
work it is to make, wash, and iron the white pants of 
those sentinels ?” 

“ Have n’t you machines ? ” 

“ No, indeed. We got up a petition once, asking for 
them, but the men said that the Devil was the father of 
these inventions, and they would n’t permit one here. 
We were burlesqued for attempting to petition the higher 
powers, and the walls were covered with cartoons of our 
leaders. They were pictured as being drunk and dressed 
in trousers ; some of them were afterward whipped with 
the lash.” 

So, thought I, the earthly laws are enforced here, and 
husbands are beating their wives with heavenly sticks. 
They are just as cruel as they were before they died. 
Their hearts are so full of petty tyranny, and their na- 
tures so distorted, that it is impossible for them to grow 
out of this condition. Death does not change the indi- 
vidual, and I — oh, /, too, have the same unfortunate views 
I always had and must necessarily suffer martyrdom ! 

With this dread in my mind I started to run away 
from my companion, but she rapidly followed. In our 
haste we came in contact with an immense tent, and the 
girl making an opening in the canvas with her scissors, 
we peeked inside. 

At first I could discern nothing, for smoke hung like 
a cloud over the thousands of people within. But I was 
told that a Fourth of July celebration was taking place, 
and feasting, speaking, and military music were stirred 
together like an egg omelette. Heated, jaded women 


io6 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


were cooking and washing dishes, while others passed 
through the crowd carrying trays of wine, liquor, and 
cigars. The men lounged about in the most careless 
manner. Many were unshaven and wore neither coats 
nor collars, and all had their hats on their heads. They 
were not the handsomest men I had ever seen, nor the 
most fastidious, but they were the bon ton of the place. 

The few women sitting in the tent seemed either hag- 
gard and hopeless, or fat and stupid. They dozed through 
the so-called declamations, but cheered when the bands 
played our national airs. Poor souls ! they were only 
aroused by the memories thus recalled of happier days. 

On the platform in the centre of the tent were groups 
of noted politicians. They were very corpulent, puffy, 
bald-headed men ; telling pointless jokes, singing tune- 
less songs and overflowing with witless wit. 

The speaker of the day told his bombastic stories in 
vain, for no one listened, every thing being in confusion. 
In his efforts to gain attention, he threw his arms in the 
air, screaming, prancing, and raving like a maniac. But 
his subject, if he had any, was lost in the general uproar. 

A tremendous noise was next created by six stout men 
beating the mammoth drum used on such occasions. It 
was as large as a tank-cistern, and the sound was terrific. 
It caused a faint lull in the audience, and was followed 
by a unanimous “ Hurrah for male government ! ” 

This I discovered was a chorus which occurred every 
thirty minutes, and in which the broken-spirited and 
depraved women of that world were compelled to join. 
I put my hands over my ears to shut out the hideous 
sounds and fled from them. And thinking of the dread- 
ful fate of women, I cursed the day that I was born. 


THE AMERICAN HEAVEN. 


107 


My companion tried to soothe me, and invited me to 
look through a telescope which I at first thought a large 
cannon. It was a revolving instrument of wonderful 
mechanism. Of the millions of people discerned through 
it only a few were women, and those were all employed 
in manual labor. The men were occupied much as those 
of earth — enjoying the pleasures of racing grounds, beer 
gardens, billiard-rooms, whiskey saloons, prize fights, and 
various other coarse pastimes. Every thing seemed of a 
sensual nature. 

Not a child was there ; not a flower or shrub, excepting 
the proverbial oleander and ivy which decked the saloons. 
My soul sickened at thought of a world without children 
or flowers. “I ’ll none of it,” I said ; “ I ’ll leave this 
loathsome place where naught but misery exists. I 
would rather live in that other place and done with it.” 

“ All women who are permitted to leave here have to 
go there,” said my guide. I could go, but I love my 
husband too well to leave him. He is a cruel master, 
but love endures all things.” 

But what about the unmarried women ; and those 
whose husbands are on earth ? ” 

“I ’ll tell you a secret,” whispered my guide. ‘‘All 
slender women, or those not too rheumatic or old, crawl 
through the tunnel I told you about, and escape. The 
others are obliged to remain. The guards think women 
are taken away by some supernatural agency, so there ’s 
no enquiries made regarding their disappearance. As I 
said before, only the slender people can get out, so 
you — ” here the speaker eyed my dimensions critically — 
“ you stand a very poor chance.” 


io8 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


But I ’m supple and ” 

‘‘ That ’s all in your favor, madam, but the fact remains, 
you are stout. Yet you may try and escape. When we 
women are out sweeping the sawdust into the tunnel, 
drop quickly into the cavity and we ’ll hide you in the 
dust. But bear in mind that, should you get fastened in 
the tunnel, you not only cut off your own escape, but 
that of all others ; our secret would then be discovered. 

“If I succeed,” I asked eagerly, “where will I find 
myself?” 

“ Indeed, madam, no one ever comes back to tell us, 
but it is believed that the tunnel leads directly down- 
stairs.” 

We started on our journey again, and by way of con- 
versation, I enquired if there were any schools in Heaven. 
Before she could answer, my guide burst into such a 
violent laugh that her body swayed back and forth like a 
mere straw. 

“ Ah, madam, you ’re too funny ! Schools ? And who ’d 
use ’em if we had any ? The women are not allowed 
any book-learning ; they ‘ ask their husbands,’ like St. 
Paul told ’em to. There ’s no children here, and the 
men — well they already know every thing.” 

“Then there ’s no progression here, nothing good to 
do, not even to play on golden harps ? ” With a sudden 
hope in my heart I continued : “ Are there never any 
deaths here ? ” 

“Gracious, no ! Neither births nor deaths. You for- 
get that this is eternity.” 

“ O dreadful, dreadful ! ” I cried, as I tried to see some 
way out of my difficulty. “ If I might only die again 


THE AMERICAN HEAVEN. 


109 


and take my chances on orthodox punishment, how- 
blessed would I be ! ” 

“ Drying my tears, I looked away to the centre of the 
grounds or place, and saw a beautiful marble palace. I 
thought it one of the many “mansions made without 
hands.” I ran toward it as fast as I could, observing 
it closely the while. From its main tower floated an 
American flag a quarter of a mile long, and on its metal 
roof were mounted cannon and armed soldiers. Various 
niches were adorned with statuary, life-sized, whiskered 
angels whose draperies disclosed capacious pockets with 
bottles in them. Each angel held a sword on which was 
pinioned a woman’s head, and dangling from that was a 
placard containing the words, “ Equal Rights.” 

My heart stood still as I contemplated this horrible 
suggestion of art in the celestial world, and I cried in 
an agony of fear and despair : “ Must I go there ? ” 

“I ’m sorry for you, madam, but I am obliged to bring 
you here to the tribunal. You may be free in five min- 
utes, or not for five thousand years, as time is of no con- 
sequence here. Should you receive a pair of wings, you 
can roam around the premises till your case is decided.” 

For my better enlightenment the speaker raised a 
neatly folded pair of wings and soared lightly around 
me, keeping close to the ground. “ You see the women's 
wings are always clipped. It is a wise provision of the 
law, our guardians say, as otherwise we might fly too 
high for our own good.” 

“ Ah, your protectors are the chips of the old blocks 
we had on earth, where the laws give women nothing 
but what they don’t want or need.” 


no 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


While speaking, I again noticed the canopy which en- 
closed the planet, or place we were in, and I enquired 
why the stars and stripes were used for it. I was told 
that there were two reasons : one was because every lash 
or stripe given to a woman was a star in the crown of 
the man (in that world) ; and because the place we were 
in was the home of Liberty, governed by the Constitution 
of the United States. 

“ And are all its rulers men ? ” I enquired. 

“To be sure they are, so you will know what to expect 
in your trial. Your judge, the recording angel, was an 
eminent prosecuting attorney on earth, and his partner 
was a tax-collector.” 

“ Ah ! — I begin to understand now,” I replied, while 
I trembled in every nerve ; “ this place is the spiritual 
outgrowth of the United States, the American Heaven?” 

“ It is, madam.” 




CHAPTER XIV. 

RECORDING ANGEL’s OFFICE. 

A S we neared the palace, I saw many of the angels’ 
feet sticking out the windows, and felt grateful for 
the familiar sight. It reminded me of earth. 
Around the grand entrance was a band of military 
angels with golden harps, fifes, and drums. “ Hail Co- 
lumbia ” and “ Yankee Doodle ” were executed in a 
lively manner, but did not favorably impress me. In 
fact, I had always believed there were no musical instru- 
ments in Heaven but harps, and that only the most rav- 
ishing sounds could emanate from them. I was there- 
fore greatly aggrieved to find that even the shrill, 
screaky fife had attained immortality. 

Hastening onward, my guide and I passed in single 
file down a narrow path hedged in on either side by a 
high wall. It led to the rear door of the palace and 
was the only entrance for women. After going up 
several pairs of rickety stairs, my companion stopped, 
begged me not to reveal my rebellious nature, kissed 
me tenderly, and ran away. 

This sympathy was very sweet, but proved beyond 
doubt that I had a very serious business on hand. 

For a moment I was undecided what to do, but seeing 


III 



II2 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


a door I approached it. Above it, in large red letters, 
ornamented with death-heads, were the dreadful words : 
“Recording Angel’s Office.” 

At sight of this, my heart beat violently, and I trem- 
bled like one in an ague. But not daring to tarry, 
I stepped inside the open door. 

The room was very large, gloomy, and dirty, and had 
the damp, musty odor of a cellar ; and the walls were 
completely packed with books. There was no apparent 
ceiling and no windows, the light coming in some way 
from overhead. And as far as my eyes could penetrate 
above, nothing was visible but shelves of books, running, 
it seemed, into illimitable distance. The room was more 
like an upright tunnel than any thing else, and I was 
puzzled to know how the books were placed on the 
shelves, as there were millions and millions of them 
beyond human reach. 

However, I soon discovered that by touching a little 
silver button, which was attached to a battery, each 
line of shelves could run up and down independently of 
the other, moving on the principle of an elevator. 

While admiring the skill of this arrangement, a slight 
rustling sound warned me that I was not alone. Reclin- 
ing on a sofa, reading “ Baxter’s Saint’s Rest,” was an 
old man with white, stubby hair, low forehead, gray eyes, 
sharp nose, and side-whiskers. On a small table beside 
him stood a bottle of wine and a silver goblet, and scat- 
tered on the floor were pages of an unfinished essay, 
entitled “ Female Imbecility.” 

Behind the scribe’s ear was a quill-pen and in his 
mouth was a wad of tobacco which gave his cheek the 


RECORDING ANGEL’S OFFICE. I13 

appearance of having a wen. A handsome, hand-painted 
cuspadore, as large as a peck measure, stood beside him, 
and in this he deposited the wen, when his face imme- 
diately relaxed into its natural proportions. 

Seeing me, he arose, bowed me silently to a seat (too 
high for my toes to touch the floor) and went across the 
room to a small dressing case. There he enhanced his 
charms by running his fingers through his hair and tying 
his cravat in a more bewildering knot. Then he clapped 
his wings several times as if to refresh himself, brushed 
the down from his black coat, adjusted his crown, seated 
himself on a high stool opposite me, and sharpened his 
pen. 

During this process, I noticed that his nails were un- 
clean, his teeth fang-shaped, his stockings too short to 
conceal his bare ankles, and, worse than all, his breath 
smelt of cardamon seed. Surely, thought I, he eats 
these to disguise the odor of liquor. 

After a prolonged stare into my face, the gentleman 
buried his nose in a soiled handkerchief and made a 
noise very much like that of a steam-whistle. In a way, 
it was an expression of his contempt for all womankind, 
and I felt impelled to offer a little apologetic cough. 
This was received with another blast of his nasal fog- 
horn ; a very ominous and argumentative sound indeed. 
After watching its effect upon my nervous system he said, 
in any thing but a reassuring tone : “ Well^ madam ! ” 

Not knowing what else to do, and being anxious to 
assent to any statement he might make, I nervously 
picked at a hole in my glove and, in a very conciliatory 
way said : “Yes, sir.” 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


II4 

I had evidently said the wrong thing, for I received a 
repetition of his first remark, only given in a more 
severe way : 

“ Well^ madam ? ” 

Before I could attempt to reply to this interrogation, 
I was seized with four consecutive sneezes — loud, hard, 
irrepressible sneezes ! They nearly jerked me from my 
seat, tore a button from my basque, and almost sundered 
body and soul. This involuntary act greatly excited the 
angel’s ire, and he blurted out savagely : “ Madam, no 

levity herey no evasion, no contempt of court. We must 
have facts. Facts,” he repeated, with a stamp of his 
foot, “ regarding your immortal soul, and I dare say, 
they ’re bad enough.” 

“ But, sir,” I pleaded in a choking voice, “ may none 
of my own sex bear me company, or take part in this 
trial ? They understand my nature better than men.” 

“ They understand nothing ! My word is their law.” 

“ Merciful heavens ! ” I cried in despair, “ I had hoped 
to escape the iron clutches of the law when I died, 
but, alas ! it seems that it follows and persecutes the very 
souls of women.” 

“ Ah, I see you are guilty of some heinous crime,” 
said the angel, with a loud, rasping laugh. “ By your 
talk, I suspect you of being one of those crazy cranks 
who fill the earth with their howls for equal rights. Is n’t 
this true ? ” 

I nodded a frightened affirmation and he continued. 

“ Had you influence ? Were you a leader ? ” 

“No, I was only a very, very ordinary worker.” 

“Too thin,” was his vulgar reply. “Too thin en- 


RECORDING ANGELAS OFFICE. II5 

tirely, mistress. Maybe you don’t know that we have a 
way of making obstinate women tell the truth. If we 
compelled them while on earth to confess themselves 
witches, what chance, do you think, have they for de- 
ception here ? Do you remember that those who denied 
their sorcery were’ burnt alive ? ” 

“Yes, sir, I remember. And those who confessed the 
falsehood were burnt also. In any event there was no 
escape. Is that the law here ?” 

“Don’t talk about law^ madam, but acknowledge at 
once that you are one of those female rebels who defy it. 
Are you not one of those ungodly women called Mott, 
Wright, Post, Anthony, or Stanton ? Ah, I see I have 
guessed your name, for you are trembling from head to 
foot ! Speak out now ! Is it Anthony ? Is it Stanton ? 
Remember, I am the recording angel and cannot be de- 
ceived.” 

While listening to this heavenly harangue, my eyes 
turned involuntarily to the long lines of books and their 
initial letters, falling on the letter S just as the name 
Stanton was pronounced. It acted like an electric shock, 
for it brought me hope of escape. I knew there was no 
chance of justice from my accuser, so I determined to 
meet persecution with strategy. In a quavering voice I 
said : “ It ’s folly for me to strive to conceal my identity 

from one of such wonderful perception as you. I am 
overpowered with your keen penetration and superiority. 
I am nothing but a poor, weak-minded female-woman, 
most mighty Angel, and I humbly confess that my name 
is Elizabeth Cady Stanton.” As I told this monstrous 
lie, the angel sprang to the floor, all aflame with mascu- 


Il6 OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 

line vanity and viciousness. He laughed till he was 
purple in the face, and rubbed his dirty hands together in 
a very ecstasy of wicked delight. 

“ I told you,” said he, “ I told you that I could not be 
deceived. 

‘‘ So, so, my fine old lady, my very fine old lady, we 
have caught you at last, have we ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! Ton 
my word, its too bad that you wandered this way and 
fell into this little trap. Too bad — ha ! ha ! ha ! Excuse 
a little pleasantry, madam, for this is truly a very re- 
markable occasion. Allow me.” 

With a mock salute, the angel gripped the little wisp of 
stubby hair above his forehead and bowed himself to 
the floor, repeating in a sarcastic voice : “ You do me 

honor — you do me honor — ha ! ha ! But in this land of 
eternal retribution, we will (excuse my Greek) flay you 
alive. Ha ! ha ! ” 

Then mopping his face and fanning himself with his 
right wing, the speaker’s whole manner changed into 
that of hate and revenge. 

“ Madam,” said he, “ you have persistently tried to 
enlighten and benefit mankind all your life and you must 
now receive your punishment. You have dared to ques- 
tion the superiority of man and the justice of man-made 
laws, and you shall yet learn that we have power here to 
crush your aspiring soul.” 

Turning to the books, he said : “ We shall see what 

your record is. Let me think ! Stanton ? Yes, I want 
the letter S. All names are registered alphabetically, so 
I must find S — t — a — n — .” 

Touching the battery, the line of books lettered S 


RECORDING ANGEL’S OFFICE. 


II7 


Started, and I knew I might hope. I knew of one name 
on which the angel’s eyes must fall millions of times be- 
fore it came to mine. 

But, as I sat there, with what pangs did I think of my 
shortcomings as viewed from the standard of a male 
Heaven ! Had I not read the morning paper before my 
dishes were washed ? I had also occasionally gone to 
the dictionary, instead of my husband, for information. 
I belonged to a suffrage club, and oh, worse than all, one 
of my husband’s shirts had a button off and his stocking 
had a hole in it ! Why, oh why, at the close of my life, 
had I neglected these all-important duties ! 

That button and that hole would be charged to my 
account and be frightfully important before the courts 
of justice got done with them. They would be law- 
worn into tatters. 

These reflections caused me to weep disconsolately for 
a while, but regaining my composure, I became hopeful, 
and more convinced momentarily that the world I was in 
was more or less of a fraud. It was not worthy of im- 
mortality, and I resolved to escape from my jailer and 
find a world that was ; though how this was to be done 
was not yet clear to my mind. 

While looking at the fiendish countenance of the angel, 
I fell to wondering whether he had a soul, and that 
thought brought up the recollection of my strange psy- 
chological gift. Could I — oh, how my heart bounded 
at the thought ! — could I not use that power and make 
this creature subject to my will ? I determined to try. He 
had not spoken to me for an hour, so looking steg,dily at 
him I willed that he should speak. Immediately he said : 


ii8 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


If Stanton only came alphabetically before another 
name we have here there ’d be no delay, but I ’m obliged 
to examine all the books containing that name first. 
Every thing must be done systematically.” 

Then I said mentally : “ This soul shall weary of its 

work yet be unable to stop it.” 

In a moment my angel was all flurry, heat, and excite- 
ment. His cravat was untied, his collar open, his crown 
hanging loosely on one ear, and his wings torn off and 
trampled under his feet. Such a wreck of dignity and 
angelic beauty was lamentable to behold ! In the gen- 
eral confusion he had forgotten my presence. Realizing 
this, I crept quietly under his desk and examined his 
wings ; and my suspicions that they were only of human 
invention were fully verified. I found them to be a 
Yankee contrivance suiting my purpose admirably, so I 
boldly applied them to my own shoulders and prepared 
to take my flight. I vowed to go to earth for help and 
rescue my sisters from this horrible prison. 

Glancing at the angel, I saw that he was completely 
absorbed in the eternal task I had given him. He 
was fast losing consciousness and assuming the quali- 
ties of a machine-man. Pointing to the name of each 
book passing under it, his finger worked with the same 
swiftness and regularity as the needle of a sewing-machine. 
And his voice grew louder and firmer as it ground out 
the one endless name preceding Stanton. 

I listened with critical delight as I found I had devel- 
oped in my tormentor the great power of perpetual mo- 
tion, that wonderful principle yet unknown to earth. 
No clock-work, water, steam, or electricity were needed 


RECORDING ANGEL’S OFFICE. II9 

to run my invention. Mind, and mind only, was the 
power. 

Proud of my achievement, yet anxious to return home, 
I raised my wings, soared a few feet from my mechani- 
cal angel, and kissed my hand to him, “ Ta-ta, Mr. An- 
gel ! ta-ta,” said I, gayly. He paid no attention, but 
repeated the same name which had so long engaged him. 
In a firm, metallic voice he said : “ Smith, Smith, Smith, 
Smith,” till I opened my eyes and — Heaven disappeared. 




CHAPTER XV. 


DRIVEN TO THE WALL. 


“ Freedom’s charms alike engage 
Blooming youth and hoary age ; 

None are happy but the free ; 

Bliss is born of liberty.” 

M ISS GRACIE PRIM made herself so useful and 
companionable to her crusty old brother-in-law, 
that he was quite troubled one morning when she 
told him she was going away that week. That, since her 
sister could not return, she would visit her at Mrs. Hall’s. 

Uncle Sam felt very guilty about forcing his wife 
away from home, and he had a dread of the sisters 
meeting and explanations taking place. He felt sure 
that Grade’s sharp questionings would wring the truth 
from his wife’s lips. He fidgeted around in the shaded 
room a few minutes before making any reply, and then 
told a conventional falsehood which he saw no way to 
avoid. 

“ I regret, Gracie, that you cannot remain till my wife’s 
return.” 

“ When do you expect her ? ” 

The question was embarrassing, but uncle Sam an- 
swered as best he could : “ Why, really, I — I have n’t 


120 




DRIVEN TO THE WALL. 


I2I 


ascertained yet. I feel some hesitation about hastening 
her, under the circumstances^ 

Gracie knew very well that “ under the circum- 
stances” implied that her sister must not be hurried 
from her cousin’s sick-bed, but she quietly remarked, 

“ Her last letter said that she was only waiting for 
money to pay her way home. Have you sent it yet ? ” 

“ No, I had forgotten she asked for it.” 

“Married women never have a cent of their own,” 
said Gracie, “ and are in a measure a class of paupers.” 
“ But, madam, what should my wife want with money of 
her own ? Her living ’s made, and I, being the head of the 
house, should carry the money. Every family must have 
a head.” 

“ But, my dear brother, don’t you think every family 
should have two heads ? And, for the sake of conven- 
ience, two pocket-books ? It is a waste of time and pa- 
tience for a woman to ask for every dime she uses in the 
household, and explain in detail what she ’s going to do 
with it. Two heads are preferable, but if only one be 
used, let it be the best.” 

“ What ’s wrong with my head, madam ? Am I an im- 
becile ? Am I an idiot ? ” 

The excited questioner brought a large book down on 
the table with a sharp whack as he finished speaking, and 
Gracie stitched away on her work in a cool, unruffled 
manner. 

“ I beg your pardon, sir ; I had no thought of being per- 
sonal, and hope you will not so construe me. However, do 
you think you would necessarily be an imbecile if you 
were not the recognized ‘ head of the house ? ’ ” 


122 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ Certainly,” was the prompt answer, for uncle Sam 
was only half appeased by Gracie’s apology. 

“ Then you consider your wife an imbecile ? ” 

“ No, not exactly that, but she’s certainly not as capa- 
ble to run the household expenses as I am.” 

“ How did you discover her inability ? ” 

I never discovered it at all ; it ’s a simple fact which 
no one questions.” 

“You are in error there, sir, for I question it greatly. 
There is nothing so intricate in this work, I think, but 
what my sister could manage it. When you were young 
and obscure did she not spin, knit, weave, and sew to 
furnish all your family clothing ? ” 

“Yes,” was the laconic answer. 

“ Did she not wash and iron the clothes, sweep, cook, 
wash dishes, scrub, milk the cows, make the butter, raise 
the poultry and hoe in the garden ?” 

“ Yes, she did work pretty hard when we were poor.” 

“ When your children were young, did she not deprive 
herself of society and all advantages of self-improvement 
to take care of them ? Did she not spend wakeful 
nights with them while you slept soundly in your bed? 
In sickness, did she not nurse you into health, denying 
herself all rest and comfort ? ” 

“ Of course she did,” said uncle Sam in an injured 
tone, “ but she was a woman, and as such, those were her 
duties.” 

“Did she not assist your children in their studies, 
teach them how to work, and give them all the moral 
training they received ? Did she not make the home 
cheerful and bright, and welcome all your friends ? ” 


DRIVEN TO THE WALL. 


123 


Yes, yes,” was the impatient reply, ‘‘but to what does 
this tend ? I see no good in itemizing your sister’s vir- 
tues.” 

“ Be patient, sir, one moment more and I will have done. 
Not only my sister^ but the majority of wives are on trial 
in this case. When your wife and you were poor she did 
all for your advancement that was in her power. Let me 
ask if she has neglected her duties since you attained 
wealth ? ” 

“No, never.” 

“And what has she received for the invaluable ser- 
vices of a lifetime ? ” 

It ’s a humiliating admission to make about such a 
great man as uncle Sam, but he certainly did look a lit- 
tle sheepish as he replied, 

“ She has a good home to live in, and gets her board 
and clothing.” 

“Truly,” said Gracie, “but doesn’t she pay high 
prices for food and dry goods ? Housekeeper, seam- 
stress, cook, nurse, and teacher are combined in her ; 
each separate occupation demanding good wages, yet for 
all of these a wife receives nothing but the food that 
sustains and the clothing that covers her tired body. Her 
services are of no money value (in her own home), and 
she is, as I said in the outset, nothing but a pauper. 

“ But to pursue this matter a little further, my dear 
brother, I would like to know what part of the house- 
hold you attend to, so that I may understand what 
qualifies any one. to be the ‘head of the house.’” 

“ I manage, and — and — I pay out the money,” said 
uncle Sam, rather stammeringly. 


124 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ And, my dear brother, how do you ascertain the 
amount of expenses ? ” 

‘ Oh, my wife keeps an exact account.” 

‘ So, sir, all you do, by your own showing, is to man- 
age (?) the work which your wife understands and you 
don’t, and — carry the pocket-book. This constitutes you 
the ‘head of the house ’ and my sister an idiot.” 

“ Now here ! ” said the poor old man, nervously, 
“ don’t you tell my wife that I said that, for really, I 
did n’t mean any disrespect to her. She ’s a good woman 
and wife, but somehow I never saw these things just as 
you present them. I want to do right, but thoughtless- 
ness, custom, and selfishness perhaps, have blinded me to 
the interests of women.” 

The speaker fell into a silence which was unbroken 
for some minutes, then continued: “You women are 
such queer creatures that we never understand you. 
Your sister never questions my authority, but you — 
you are just like a thorn in my flesh. You ’re forever 
uncovering my faults, and stinging my conscience with 
some unpleasant fact. If my wife were somewhat exact- 
ing, yet not so severe as you, I believe I ’d be a better 
man.” 

There was a suspicious tremor in the speaker’s voice, 
which made Gracie long to put her arms around his neck 
and kiss his quivering lips, but this she dared not do. 
After quieting the hurried beating of her heart, she said ; 
“ You will forgive me for what I say, but indeed I do 
not think you have made that companion of your wife 
that you should. In recognizing her domestic qualities 
you have found, 


DRIVEN TO THE WALL. 


125 


‘ ‘ A creature not too bright or good 
For human-nature’s daily food.’ 

“You have almost ignored her intellectual and spirit- 
ual faculties and the finer emotions of her nature. When 
she returns, take my suggestions by beginning your lives 
anew. Base your happiness on justice and equality, and 
you will find that priceless equilibrium in life which you 
have never known.” 

Uncle Sam walked several turns about the room, then 
lit his pipe, tilted himself back in his chair, and dreamily 
puffed the rings of smoke above his head. Looking 
towards his companion he said : “ I wonder, Gracie, 

that you never married.” 

“Yes,” said she, smiling pleasantly, “it ’s quite won- 
derful when we consider the countless incentives women 
have to marry.” 

“ And which, my sarcastic sister, do you consider the 
most weighty ? ” 

“ Now, sir, you are giving me a challenge to scratch 
you again with those thorns.” 

“Oh, I am getting toughened now, and don’t mind 
them so much. Go on and tell me how you ’ve resisted 
the prayers of your suitors.” 

“Simply by knowing the experience of those who 
marry and repent. One of them was cousin Prudence. 
You know how beautiful, and wealthy, and light-hearted 
she was in girlhood. In a few years after marriage she 
was a careworn, heart-broken, poverty-stricken woman.” 

“ Now, Gracie, do you know, I ’ve actually forgotten 
what misfortune befell her.” 

“ No misfortune at all but that of binding herself to 


126 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


an unworthy, selfish man. He had a mania to be popu- 
lar after death, to have his praises sung when he slept in 
his grave, though how he expected to enjoy his fame I 
can’t tell. Well, this idle man was supported from the 
bounties of his wife till he lay on his death-bed. Then 
he made a will in which he left every dollar of his wife’s 
money to found a college for young men. Stealing 
(legally) from his family to perpetuate his own memory. 
Only think of it ! ” 

“ The unprincipled, cursed rascal ! ” said uncle Sam, 
as he quickly caught the hot pipe in his hand and as 
quickly let it loose again. “ Such consummate villains 
ought to be — be burnt !” This mode of punishment 
was doubtless suggested by the speaker’s late experi- 
ence, for he was vigorously blowing the inside of his 
hand. 

“ That case of Marcia’s was similar,” continued 
Gracie. “Through the combined energies of herself 
and husband they saved up ten thousand dollars. 
While away from home in a strange city, he became sud- 
denly ill. He was taken to the hospital, and after a day 
or two, expired. It was found that while he was dying 
among strangers he signed a will bequeathing every 
dollar he had to a certain church. He was influenced, 
of course, by interested parties. Marcia had nothing 
left but a little house and her fatherless children. But 
she never blamed her husband, for she knew he could 
only, be unjust by being irresponsible. Yet the law 
made it possible for that noble man (in the power 
of unscrupulous people) to commit this crime against 
his family.” 


DRIVEN TO THE WALL. 


127 


“ May Satan roast me ! if I ever thought of these 
things before. I have been in a Rip Van Winkle sleep 
for years,” said uncle Sam. Rising, he knocked the 
ashes from his pipe with so much energy that he split 
the bowl wide open. “ Gracie, I swear by the holy Jum- 
bo ! that I will try hereafter to prevent such calamities.” 

Then with a bantering, lively manner he addressed 
his sister again : Gracie, you are a perfect encyclopae- 

dia of marriage calamities^ and when one wants the dark 
side of life, you might be consulted with impunity.” 

“ The /rue side would be more correct. Yes, I know 
of much suffering created by unjust laws.” 

“ But, honest, now,” said uncle Sam, in a confidential, 
half-persuasive manner, “ would n’t you be happier with 
a home of your own and your husband and children 
around you ? ” 

“ That, sir, if you ’ll think, is an impossible combina- 
tion ; for a woman with a husband cannot have a home 
of her e7£/u. A wife cannot be a property-holder unless 
the laws are changed to that effect. Husband and wife 
being one, and that one the husband, the home is A/s/* 

“ But it ’s all the same, for a wife can use it during 
her lifetime, and she does n’t need it after she ’s dead** 
said uncle Sam, laughing heartily at his fine point in 
argument. “ I say, madam, she does n’t need a house 
after she 's dead^ does she ? ” 

Uncle Sam could n’t resist the repetition of this witty 
interrogation, although he felt a momentary pity for the 
embarrassment it would cause Gracie. It was hardly 
fair, he thought, to get the better of the discussion, and 
then ridicule an opponent. 


128 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


But the blow seemed very harmless indeed, for Grade 
was intent on getting a knot out of her thread. Then 
looking up to discover the cause of her brother’s mirth, 
she calmly remarked : “ I differ with you. A wife 

has just the same use for property after she ’s dead 
that a husband has. He is privileged to will it to his 
children or friends, and she should be also. Your law 
for wills says : ‘ All persons of sound mind, except 
infants and married women, are legally entitled to dis- 
pose of their property by will.* This proves effectually 
that a married woman cannot own property ; if she did, 
she could dispose of it.” 

“ But, madam, in some of my dominions these laws 
are being modified, remember.” 

“ Perhaps. But they should be modified in all before 
women take their risks on married life. Now I, being a 
spinster, can dispose of my property as I like, the law 
considering me of ‘ sound mind ’ so long as I ’m single. 
And so far the law is right. What I earn by my labor or 
economy is mine. No wife on this continent has such a 
privilege. 

“ Although I have no husband for a companion, neither 
am I restrained by a despot. Though I have no children 
to caress, neither may they be snatched from my bosom 
by legal force.” 

“ I see. Grade, that you are a perfect man-hater and 
we all appear like wild animals to you. You think us 
incapable of any good.” 

“ I think nothing of the kind. In your dealings with 
each other you are more charitable than we women are. 
I like men — good men. It ’s their laws that make them 


DRIVEN TO THE WALL. 


129 


cruel. My estimate of men would perhaps surprise you, 
for — can you think me in earnest ? — I declare that I, 
even /, am susceptible to the tender passion. I love a 
man with all my heart and soul.” 

Uncle Sam sprang from his chair as if Graciehad fired 
a gun at him. The idea of her being in love was a per- 
fect revelation. He gave a long, loud whistle and sank 
back in his seat. And realizing that he was in the pres- 
ence of a marriageable, single lady, manlike, he thought of 
his own personal attractions. Instinctively, he pulled up 
his collar, stroked his whiskers, and brushed an imag- 
inary speck from his slippers. Breaking the awkward 
silence he said : “ May I ask the name of your — your 

lover ? ” 

“ I cannot tell you now. And although, under proper 
conditions, I fully believe the marriage relation better 
than any other, yet I can never marry the man I love. 
Circumstances make it utterly impossible. So you see I 
bear by compulsion the name of Gracie Prim.” 

With this truthful remark the lady folded her work 
neatly and left the room, while her companion fell into 
a revery and his thoughts were outspoken : “ I wonder 

who in the deuce she ’s in love with ? And why can’t 
she marry ? She ’s not too young I should think, and 
there ’s no one to object. Let me see ! Maybe its the 
man’s fault. Perhaps he ’s a drunkard, or a felon, or a 
married man.” 

Here the speaker caught a glimpse of himself as he 
passed a mirror and walking up to it in a friendly, ad- 
miring way he missed the goggles from his eyes. Grading 
the light with his hand so that he could see his features. 


130 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


with frowning effort he examined them closely. After a 
moment’s investigation, he smiled satisfactorily. 

“Not such a bad-looking man of my age,” said he, 
“not at all. In fact one would travel a long way to 
find my equal.” 

The speaker got as many favorable views of himself 
as possible, repeating again : “ Quite a long journey.” 

Then, while a flush went over his face, he fell, rather 
than sat, in his arm-chair, giving a sharp slap on his knee 
as he exclaimed : “ Egad ! that explains the whole story — 
Grade loves me ! All these years she ’s hidden her feel- 
ings and none of us suspected the truth. Either that, or 
she 's stricken since this visit. I pity her, I do, ’pon my 
honor,” (uncle Sam’s face beamed with gratified vanity) 
“but really now, really and truly, I ’m not to blame. 
And, for that matter, neither is she, for Gracie is an ex- 
cellent judge of intellect and style, — ex — cel — lenty 

Walking back and forth with his hands crossed under 
his coat-tail, uncle Sam seemed in a very pleasant mood. 
And casting casual looks towards Grade’s window, he 
uttered a very emphatic-“j5'^ — cel — lent y* 




CHAPTER XVI. 

A demon’s work. 

A GREAT aunt of Edna’s adopted child (little waif) 
read the whole newspaper history of it and its 
parents. And so pleased was she with Edna’s 
generous conduct, that she gave her a fine annuity for 
life, and made Edna heir to a large property. 

When Professor Wolfe heard of this, he feigned great 
repentance for his unkindness and was eager to assume 
reformation and friendship. He went so far in this as 
to take their children home to their mother again. This 
was such an unexpected blessing to Edna that she was 
almost overcome with joy. Yet she distrusted the Pro- 
fessor and could not believe he would long leave her in 
peace 

Meantime, he was cursing, his own stupidity and bad 
luck in being separated from Edna and her money. He 
studied hourly how to defraud her. He became more 
and more abusive to his family, using personal violence 
upon each one, and threatening the life of Mrs. Wolfe. 
It was no unusual thing for her to be driven out of the 
house in the night, her husband hating her because 
she stood, he believed, in his road to fortune. If his 
wife were out of the way, he thought he could gain 

131 



132 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Edna’s favor through the influence of their children and 
thus possess himself of her money. There was no limit 
to the man’s self-conceit and cruelty. And so anxious 
was he to be free from his wife that he became per- 
fectly desperate. 

One morning the community was aroused to a dread- 
ful state of excitement by a statement made by Mrs. 
Wolfe’s daughters. In the dead hours of the night, they 
had been aroused from their sleep by the outcries of 
their mother. But on trying their doors and windows, 
they found them securely fastened and themselves pris- 
oners. No earthly sum could have tempted them to call 
for help, for they well knew that they would be met at 
once by the Professor and punished, perhaps murdered. 
So they kept perfectly quiet, and they listened some time, 
before they could distinguish a word. Then they heard 
this piercing scream : 

“My God ! not in a madhouse ! ” 

This was followed by a dull sound as if some one had 
fallen on the floor. Then a heavy body was dragged 
down the stairs, the outside door opened and closed, and 
all was still. Through the windows they saw the Profes- 
sor enter a closed carriage carrying his unconscious wife 
in his arms. The carriage drove off and the girls were 
left alone in that deserted place. Frightened and miser- 
able they returned to their bed to await the coming of 
day. When it came, they broke a window sash and leant 
outside and called for help. And in a few minutes after, 
Charley found them and brought them home with him. 

It was evident that the Professor had taken his wife to 
an asylum to get her out of his way, trusting that the 


A demon’s work. 


133 


horror of the place and the cruel treatment would soon 
wear her into her grave. It was a bold move for a well- 
known man to make, but such things had been done by- 
others. 

The orphans were inconsolable in their grief, and that 
night I arose from my bed and tried to comfort them. 

“ Ah, Mrs. Bell,” said the elder, “ I cannot sleep, for I 
seem to see my mother’s white face and hear her piteous 
screams as I did last night ! How can I rest when she 
is imprisoned with raving maniacs and her eyes peer 
through iron bars ? I saw the Asylum once, but little 
thought its walls would ever debar those I loved from 
freedom. Such screams, songs, prayers, and wild, un- 
earthly laughs I never heard before ! How can my ten- 
der-hearted mother endure these dreadful surroundings 
and keep her senses ? I fear, above all things else, I fear 
she will go mad. O mother, poor mother ! ” 

Messengers were sent to inquire about Mrs. Wolfe, but 
they could learn nothing more than that she had been put 
in the Asylum by her husband. No friends were ad- 
mitted to her room, and thus matters stood for a week, 
when the Professor suddenly appeared among us. He 
was interviewed regarding his wife, but was very reti- 
cent. But when told that none of his family were in the 
vicinity (Gracie had taken the girls to a place of securi- 
ty), and that he was accused of crime, he weakened a 
little. Then putting on a bold face, he declared they 
were all away on a visit to friends, and he was only 
returned from taking them. 

He would not acknowledge the truth till he was re- 
peatedly assured that the citizens knew it. Then the 


134 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


mask was dropped, and with a defiant air he owned to the 
charge. He said his wife was weak-minded, and that it 
was iorh.Qx good that he shut her up. He cited to us cases 
in our country where men had taken their wives from 
crying little ones and nursing babes and incarcerated 
them, no attempt being made to prove insanity. His 
wife, he said, was a legal nonentity, and, as her protector, 
he could put her wherever he chose. His act was per- 
fectly lawful — as indeed it was. 

Thus did the villainous scamp defy us all and we were 
utterly powerless. But that evening, in the privacy of 
our home, I asked Charley if we could not send a physi- 
cian to prove Mrs. Wolfe’s sanity. Might it not be es- 
tablished by her associates ? Could we not testify our- 
selves ? 

‘‘ My dear,” said he, “ the husband has unlimited 
power in this State, no evidence of insanity being re- 
quired.” 

“ O Charley, how dreadful uncle Sam’s laws are for 
women ! ” 

“Jessie, I have no doubt that a great many pure and 
perfectly sane wives have pined their lives away in mad- 
houses. And both there and at home they have re- 
ceived such inhuman treatment that their spirits were 
subjugated and their bodies destroyed also. The nearest 
and dearest friends or relatives are not allowed to defend 
them against brutal husbands. No testimony in their 
favor is received in the courts. And many victims only 
escape the Asylum by entering the grave.” 

“ Why, Charley, this is worse treatment, a thousand 
times worse, than the slaves receive.” 


A demon’s work. 


135 


Certainly, my love. Few human beings, under any 
law, have suffered greater indignities than the wives of 
our own country, either in the present or some former 
time. 

Most of my library is composed of laws which, were 
equity shown to women, there would be no occasion to 
use. One code for both sexes is all we need. Were this 
plan adopted, the expenses and intricacies of law would 
be comparatively few. Justice is neither male nor female. 
It is a principle which should be in the possession of 
every one. 

Since the law holds it a crime to be a woman,” I said 
bitterly, “ why were women permitted to inhabit this 
country at all ? Such an evil should n’t have been im- 
ported. Had the time men spend in the subjugation of 
my sex been used in suppressing vice, the world would 
be better off. 

“ And oh, my dear husband, only think ! Our over- 
tender little daughter may some time fall into the hands 
of some depraved wretch who will murder her with 
lawful tortures. Why, why are women foolish enough 
to marry and have families while such environments 
exist ? Each son may but add to the list of tyrants, each 
daughter to that of victims.” 

“In my opinion, wife, few women would marry, if 
they realized their narrow chances of happiness. Many 
venture into the unknown kingdom of matrimony and 
find, when it is too late, what a web of misfortune they 
are in.” 

“ But, Charley, there are some exceptions in life such 
as our own. You, my darling, make me realize no law 


136 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


but that of love. No other would be needed were all 
men as good as you.” 

“ Give me no credit, wife. Had I been naturally de- 
praved and vicious, you would have suffered. Had you 
not been sympathetic and pointed out the wrongs of 
your sex, I would yet be blind to them, and as careless 
or intolerant, perhaps, as the majority. I should never 
have had the opportunity to work for the oppressed as I 
intend to do henceforth. For my soul shall strive for 
right while this infinite wrong exists.” 

“ And mine,” said I, as I yielded to the pressure of my 
husband’s entwining arm. 




CHAPTER XVII. 

heaven’s records. 

O NE summer evening, after the children were asleep, 
I sat in the moonlit porch waiting for Charley. 
He ’d been away several days, and was to be 
home about midnight. My head rested on the chair as 
I rocked back and forth looking at the waving branches 
of the trees, and listening to the katydids. By degrees 
I fell into a quiet, happy state of mind, and seemed 
to be seated among the soft foliage of the trees and ris- 
ing in a gentle, undulating way, leaving the sound of the 
katydids far below me. 

The sensation was very pleasant, and I did not try to 
resist it. I could not account for my manner of locomo- 
tion, I only knew I was moving without personal effort, 
gliding through space with that rocking, easy motion 
with which a sail-boat passes over rippling waters. 

With no volition of my own, I found myself approach- 
ing a beautiful park or garden, whose gate of silvery net- 
work stood ajar. I entered, and before me was such a 
magnificent landscape that its grandeur impressed me 
with awe. I felt that I was treading on holy ground. 
The enclosure was carpeted with a soft, green moss with 
sprinklings of violets and other sweet flowers with which 

137 


138 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


I was unacquainted. And the fragrance of the air was 
so gratifying and delicious to the senses that it was al- 
most intoxicating. 

In the distance lofty mountains lifted their peaks into 
the spaceless sea of blue above, half hidden at times in 
the hazy atmosphere, and again standing out in bold re- 
lief. They were clearly reflected in a charming lake at 
their base, where drifts of wild-flowers were blown by 
the soft breeze. Light gondolas, studded with precious 
stones, sparkled and glistened in the light ; rocking as 
gently on the undulating waters as rock the birds within 
their nests. 

Knolls, grottos, waterfalls, and singing fountains gave 
a picturesque appearance to the place, and trees of great 
variety were there. Some were festooned with delicate 
vines, some had feathery-looking foliage much resem- 
bling ferns or tropical plants, while others were bending 
with clusters of flowers. Innumerable birds flitted 
among the branches, their rich plumage constantly 
changing color, and their songs taken up and echoed by 
the fluttering leaves. 

Shining, silvery streams wound in graceful curves 
about the garden, washing with dimpled waves the tinted 
shells which lined their banks. And islands of white 
lilies dropped their golden petals from their fragrant 
cups. 

On a distant summit shone gray rock, dotted with 
clusters of fern and thickets of roses. These gave color 
to the landscape and filled the air with delicious odors. 

Groups of men, women, and children wore expressions 
of happiness and purity upon their faces, and they all 


HEAVEN’S RECORD. 


139 


seemed rationally occupied. Little children, attired in 
sheeny white garments, flitted about in innocent sport ; 
singing, dancing, and gathering flowers ; their voices 
making a sweeter music than I had ever before heard. 

Many of the people sang plaintive, tender melodies, 
and played upon musical instruments, the nature of 
which I could form no idea ; but the music was so thrill- 
ing, so overpowering in its sweetness, that it caused my 
whole being to quiver with a new sense of delight. 

My soul seemed to enlarge with happy emotions, and 
each emotion was acted upon by this invisible power as 
if it were an instrument for the reception of melody. 

“ These lovely harmonies, these angelic children, these 
beautiful flowers, and peaceful men and women exist not 
on earth,” I cried aloud. “ Surely, oh, surely, this is 
Heaven ! ” 

How delighted I was to think that the thousands of 
pure beings around me could have no more disappoint- 
ments, sufferings, or death ; that they were all reaping 
the harvests they had sown, and enjoying the fruits of 
their good works. The realization of this blessed fact 
overcame me, and I swooned upon the ground. 

With returning consciousness I seemed to sense a 
sweet presence before I heard a loving voice exclaim : 

“ Mamma, dear mamma, are you here at last ? Do 
you not know me ? I am your lost baby, whose body 
you put in the earth years ago and covered with flowers. 
My ashes lie there yet, but I, little Charley, am here'* 

The sweet lips showered me with kisses, the soft arms 
clung round my neck, and the silken head once more 
nestled upon my bosom. 


140 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ He lives, he lives ! ” I said, as I rapturously em- 
braced him, “my precious, my darling, my own, my 
own ! Would that I might tell the despairing mothers 
of earth to weep no more, for their treasures await them 
here ! O joy, O infinite joy ! ” 

As I ceased speaking, many little children (whose 
parents called them dead) came to me with affectionate 
greetings. They brought me garlands of flowers, beauti- 
ful shells, and refreshing draughts in cups of pearl. 
Then approached throngs of friends and relatives whose 
faces I had last seen under the coffin-lid. They were 
full of kind remembrances of those they had left on 
earth, and each wore that inexpressible look of purity 
and gentleness, which no child of earth can comprehend. 

Then saying that I needed quiet and rest before any 
further experience, they placed me on a couch of snow- 
white lilies, as soft as swans’ down, and rich with per- 
fume. They took my child from my arms, and, promis- 
ing to return in a short time, they left me alone. 

Ensconced behind delicate vines, which hung like 
lacework around and above me, I slept for a time, and 
awoke refreshed and exhilarated. 

The first object that met my sight was a beautiful 
pagoda which swung in the air like a fleecy cloud. Its 
fastenings were as filmy and delicate as a spider-web and 
were attached, apparently, to the horizon itself. And 
it moved, glowed, sparkled, and paled in the sunlight, 
with all the colors of the rainbow. I could scarcely 
believe it tangible, but expected momently to see it rise 
like a mist, or fade away. 

Within it sat a man and a woman with souls so con- 


HEAVEN’S RECORD. 


I41 

genial and interblended that they seemed but one j their 
mental and spiritual worth being as visible to me as their 
external beauties. They were discussing a large book, 
which they at last closed, and then rejoined a group of 
lovely companions. The lady clung affectionately to 
her husband’s arm, while he listened with fond interest 
to her gentle words. I knew intuitively that they were 
recording angels. 

A desire seized me to know at once my own status in 
the angel-world. Yet I remembered with much remorse 
of conscience that, although I had never done any 
wicked deeds, I had omitted doing many kind ones. 
And I knew I was sometimes backward in drawing the 
mantle of charity over the sins of those who oppressed 
me. I was also slow to forgive an enemy. In fact, 
there were many things I regretted, and found it late to 
remedy. 

Yet, gaining courage, I entered the pagoda and opened 
the recording angels’ book. The first name I saw, and 
one of the most conspicuous was uncle Sam’s ; it held 
my attention till I could get no farther. The statement 
made of my uncle’s life (the record said) was taken from 
a journal of my aunt’s, and was true in every detail. It 
was a terrible arraignment of uncle Sam, and as I read 
the last sentence I felt myself losing consciousness. I 
was falling, falling, falling, until my eyes opened upon 
my husband. He was frantically calling me to “ wake 
up,” and poured nearly a pitcher of water on me as a 
restorative to consciousness. 

“ I never knew you to sleep so soundly or look so pale 
in my life,” said he. 


142 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


O Charley ! O Charley ! ” said I, with a gasp, 
“why did you disturb me? I was in heaven. And I 
saw — oh, I saw our darling boy ! ” 

“ Well, well, little wife,” said my husband, with a puz- 
zled smile, “ don’t go there any more. It gives a fellow 
such a shock to meet his wife looking like a ghost ; be- 
sides, you were only dreaming.” 

But I, who had the experience, knew it was no dream, 
though I could give it no certain name. To me it was 
a reality ; as much so as any thing else I ever ex- 
perienced. Through hours of wakefulness that night, I 
could scent the white lilies of the other world, and feel 
the impress made upon my breast by my angel baby’s 
head. I believed that facts of which we had no pre- 
vious knowledge were sometimes disclosed by what 
were falsely called dreams. I determined to write to 
my uncle and ask if his wife had an old journal, and if 
there was any known foundation for my experience. 

In a few days my uncle kindly wrote me that my dream 
(or vision, as he called it) was true so far as the record 
was concerned. And that much established, I clung to 
the hope that the peace also was real. For by what con- 
ceit could such a bewitching picture be stamped upon 
my brain ? 

“Jessie, my child,” wrote my uncle, “when I read 
the ‘ OLD, OLD STORY,’ which your dear aunt so cher- 
ished, I felt like a villain. And when I assure you that 
I meant every word of it at the time I said it, I fear you 
can never believe me true. 

“ Of course there was a certain amount of exaggera- 
tion and glamour (a poet’s privilege) in my words as in 


HEAVEN’S RECORD. 


143 


all ardent, impulsive love-talk, yet the intention was 
honorable. How have I fulfilled my promises ? As if, in- 
deed, the truth were not in me. Blinded by pride and 
power, I trampled the heart I had won, and felt con- 
tented with an assumption of superiority. In my contri- 
tion of heart I can but cry, fool ! fool ! ” * 

There, at last, were the first tokens of an awakened 
conscience and true repentance. And I hailed them as a 
wrecked ship’s crew might hail the sight of land. And 
I trusted that the noble resolves might take the place of 
vain repinings. 

I touched reverently the little book which contained 
the secret sorrow of my aunt’s life, and which might yet 
prove the instrument of destruction to injustice. Those 
old yellow leaves had been hidden many, many years 
•from human eyes, yet they now appeared before my 
uncle as his accusers. And as I again read the pitiful 
story of my aunt’s sufferings I wept afresh with sym- 
pathy. Yet she had the comfort of a clear conscience, 
while my uncle’s heart was torn with remorse. Poor, 
old penitent uncle Sam ! 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

OUR uncle’s arraignment. 

(From his wife’s Journal.) 

D ear husband, when within our youthful veins 

The warm blood flow’d in healthy, happy bounds, 
We soon perceiv’d that we were firmly held 
In mental gloom by dark environments. 

Then did our fetter’d spirits beat their wings 
Against their prison bars, and send their bright 
And holy aspirations far above 
The narrow limits tyrants had prescrib’d. 

Then went we forth together, in the world, 

In search of human rights and liberty, 

While birds of hope sang sweetly in our hearts. 

Your arm supporting me, I turn’d away 
From parents, kindred, country, friends, and home 
Forever more ; braving, for your dear sake. 

The dangers and uncertainties of life 
In untried lands. 

Across the Mayflower’s deck. 

O’er waters blue I gaz’d, then dropp’d my head 
Upon your breast and wept my last farewell. 

Sweet were the words of solace which you gave ; 

And consciousness of being dear to you 
Brought happiness to me. You there renew’d 
Your vows in love’s impassion’d tone, breathing 


144 


OUR UNCLE’S ARRAIGNMENT. 


145 


The words I here transcribe and fitly name ; 

“The Old, Oi,d Story.” 

“ Weep not, my love ! but lift thy violet eyes. 

To him whom they hold captive evermore ; 

Whose heart warms in thine ev’ry winning grace 
Of soul, and speech, and sweetly budding form. 

Weep not ! but in this holy twilight hour 

Remember that across yon rolling tide 

Lies a new world, which world will be our home, 

And in that land which eagerly awaits 

My lovely bride, all things shall welcome her. 

“ Its stately mountains rear their heads above 
The valleys sleeping in their beds of green ; 

Its tangled bowers, trimm’d by Nature’s hand. 

Are fill’d with birds to cheer thee with their songs — 
Birds that will learn from thy rich, thrilling voice 
A sweeter melody than e’er they sang. 

“ The rivulets will pause and turn their course 
To kiss the blossoms where thy feet have stray’d ; 

The dews will fall from drooping, leafy boughs. 

To glow like jewels in thy glossy hair ; 

And from beneath the summer’s breezy veil. 

The sunbeams will steal forth to touch thy cheek. 
And butterflies forsake the lily’s cup. 

And violet, and heart of damask rose. 

To taste the greater sweets of thy red lips. , 

“ The brown dove, calling to its absent mate. 

Will learn thy gentle, sympathetic heart. 

And call no more, but fly in sweet content. 

And nestle quietly upon thy breast. 

“ The hare, in round-eyed wonder, will come forth 
And sit upon his haunches, while he looks 
In fearlessness upon thy fairy form. 

And think — if thought and rcason’ng power be here — 
How fair the world, since thou adornest it ! 

“ The timid fawn its mountain will forsake. 

And follow in thy footsteps to thy door. 


146 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Resting its silken head upon thy knee — 

Tam’d by the spirit looking from thine eyes. 

In thy pure presence, beasts will loose their prey 
To marvel at a being fair as thou, 

And feast their eyes until their hunger ’s stayed ; 
And reptiles feel abash’d and haste away 
To hide their venom’d bodies from thy sight. 

“ Man, though uncivilized and rude he be, 

Or vicious, shall lack courage e’en to think 
Of wrong in presence of thy virtuous soul ; 

Nor injury, nor wicked deed commit. 

So, fear thee not. 

“ Dearest, again I pledge 
My life’s devotion and undying love. 

Through all vicissitudes of wedded life 
I ’ll make thee my first thought and sweetest care ; 
Father and mother I will be to thee. 

In bounteous love, and tireless guidance. 

With this strong arm, I ’ll vanquish Fate itself, 

If it come skulking near to dare, or harm. 

For thou, dear being, thou art born to be 
Mother of Freedom in the land we seek. 

‘ ‘ Cheer up, mine own ; for on thee doth depend 
My future greatness and success in life. 

And when we conquer wrong and vict’ry win. 

We ’ll every benefit and blessing share. 

I could accept no gift denied to thee 

For oh ! my love, my wife, we are but one ! ” 

My husband, these were your own gracious words. 
And smilingly I pressed your hand and said : 

“ Dearest, I know your tongue doth flatter me. 

But I will trust your heart,” 

In after years, 

I reared your dove-eyed daughters and strong sons. 
And when humanity called for our aid, 

I help’d to bind war’s armour on my braves. 

And with my blessing bade them all adieu. 


OUR UNCLE’S ARRAIGNMENT. 


147 


Many and bitter were the battles fought, 

Before we made the head of Royalty 
Bow down before our earnest, mighty will ; 

Before our enemies could comprehend 
That we, a little band of heretics, 

Dissenting from establish’d views and laws. 

Would humbly bow no more to tyranny. 

No more submit, in blind obedience 
And servile acts, to despots’ iron rule. 

We would be no man’s slaves, but freely use 
The rights and reason God hath given us, 

And with these principles to urge us on. 

We drench’d Columbia’s fertile soil with blood. 

And on her bosom strew’d our warriors’ bones ; 

But gave ‘to her a fame that ne’er shall die. 

Through the long years of war and dread suspense 
And hard privations, did I strive to bear 
My wretched part with cheerfulness and hope. 

But oh ! my mother-heart would always pine 
For those dear children on the battle ground. 

But hop’d the blood-bought right of liberty 
Would, in the future, make amends for all. 

At last the fife, and drum, and bugle ceas’d. 

The gory swords were sheath’d, and cannons still’d. 
And camp-fires all put out. Then look’d the world 
In admiration on the grandest star 
Set in the universe — America. 

Sweet peace prevail’d, and all our land rejoic’d, 
That glorious Freedom spread her eagle wings 
From shining shore to shore. While I, the sworn 
Companion of your sorrows and your joys. 

Look’d on with gladden’d eyes and grateful heart. 
Till, shock’d, surpris’d, pain’d, and in deep despair 
I waken’d from my happy dream, to find 
All blessings you enjoy’d, denied to me ! 

Though toiling far beyond my feeble strength 
I had no legal rights to earnings won 


148 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


By my own hands ; no right to property, 

To moneys, lands, homestead, or gift of friends ; 

In all pertaining unto worldly wealth, 

Or personal possessions, I had nought ; 

I was the veriest pauper and outcast. 

From me and all my sisterhood, the right 
Of franchise was withheld ; while man, alone. 
Monopolized the blessings that it brought. 

Nay, worse, far worse than this ! I had no right 
To my own offspring — dearer far than life, — 

Being flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone. 

And for whose precious sakes I had gone down 
Into the very shadows of the grave. 

Nay, worse ! For I had not the legal right 
Of my own being. I belonged to you ! 

I was your legal prey, your property. 

As were your horses, poultry, cows, and sheep. 

I was your slave, your bound and helpless slave. 

Of my own body’s custody denied — 

Possess’d of nought, unless — perchance — a soul. 

“ O God ! ” I cried, “ was it for this — for this 
I gave my heart’s sweet confidence to one 
Who, in his pride and arrogance denies 
To me, his wife, the boon of liberty ? ” 

You bade me and our trembling daughters kneel 
Beneath the stars and stripes, and there put on 
A tyrant’s chains — fetters you ’d worn so long. 

They ’d mark’d your spirit with their shameful scars. 
But they ’d yet cruel strength enough to bind 
Woman’s weak hands, and hold her in restraint ; 
And they were Freedom's only gift to her/ 

Thence, when upon my breast a young life slept, 

I thank’d my God if it were not a girl. 

Not that I lov’d the daughters less than sons. 

But that a girl-child was accurs’d before its birth 
With the inheritance of slavery ; 

While I, just Heaven ! I, its mother, / 


OUR UNCLE’S ARRAIGNMENT. 


149 


Could only bring it forth, nor shield nor save } 

Thus hath my lover kept his solemn vows, 

Thus hath my husband cherish’d me ! 

And like to me, is ev’ry other wife 
Within this land which boasts of human rights. 
Thus are my gray hairs bow’d down into shame, 
And my soul sicken’d with its weight of ills. 

But, I have vow’d to make my daughters free 
From this vile outrage at their father’s hand, 

Ere my sad soul finds rest. But should grim Death 
O’ertake me on my way, my spirit shall 
Return through shining paths and do its work 
Were the cost years of my immortal life, 

I ’d pay the price to hear the angels sing : 

“ Freedom and justice unto all on earth ! 




CHAPTER XIX. 

THE OLD HOME. 

“ How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, 

When fond recollection presents them to view ! 

The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood. 

And every loved spot which my infancy knew.” 

W HEN Charley and I heard that my aunt (whom 
we no longer shall call Miss Prim) had gone 
to the old home, we joined her immediately ; 
two days’ journey by water and an hour by stage bring- 
ing us in sight of the place. 

As the children discovered the old house gleaming 
through the green trees like a pillar of marble, they 
shouted with delight. Time, which brought changes to 
all things else, seemed to leave this place untouched. 
As we passed over the dusty roads, the rabbits leaping 
across them, the squirrels springing from tree to tree, 
and the birds carrying twigs to build their nests, seemed 
the identical ones I had seen in my childhood. 

How familiar and dear they were ! and how beautiful 
the landscape ! The violets, buttercups, and daisies 
glowed on the hills like stars in the firmament. And in 
the valleys, the little streams gurgled along their pebbled 
beds with a tinkling, musical sound, suggestive of cool- 
ness and freshness. The sweet-brier ran freely along 

150 



THE OLD HOME. 151 

the ground, trailing its wealth of pale, pink roses over 
the grass and greeting us with its delicate odors. 

As we neared the lane, we saw the locust trees on 
either side, their sweet-scented blossoms drifting in 
snowy clouds across our way. Weeping willows drooped 
gracefully on the lawn, their long, slender branches 
sweeping the earth. Bees hummed peacefully in the 
clover fields, and the air was laden with the perfume of 
the orchard blossoms and musical with the songs of 
birds. 

As these beloved scenes and sounds greeted me, I 
wept in an ecstasy of joy, my heart being too full for 
words. 

Baby Dot’s stubby fingers were pointing out the 
things of interest to him, and Archie was unusually quiet. 
Said he : “ Eversings is so sweet that if some sojer- 
mans was a standin’ roun’ wif der fings, dis world 
would be jus’ like Heaben.” 

Mamma,” said Bessie, whose cheeks glowed with ex- 
citement, “ I saw all this in the piece of poetry you wrote 
about it. But oh, see ! You forgot to write a word about 
the boy and donkey coming down the hill, or the white 
calf running and kicking up in the clover. Now it *s the 
sweetest little thing that ever was, and ought to make 
one verse of poetry if not more.” 

At the close of these original suggestions, we reached 
the gate and walked to the house through rows of purple 
lilacs and feathery pinks. And on the porch, among Mie 
roses and honeysuckles, stood aunt Sam, whose welcom- 
ing arms received my little family. Then Charley and 
the children ran out to enjoy the water (and novelty) of 


152 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


the “old oaken bucket,” and we women were left alone. 
We embraced and kissed each other, and laughed and 
cried for joy, as only women can do satisfactorily — and 
scientifically. 

We had been separated so long that we could scarcely 
realize the fact of meeting. We wished to make sure 
that we were our own individual, real, and tangible selves, 
and not some vapory cloud or substance liable to dissolve 
at any moment. With my dream of Heaven yet fresh in 
my mind, I feared to move, lest I should find myself or 
my aunt only a fleeting fancy. 

My aunt drew me into her lap, as she had done thou- 
sands of times before, and I forgot that I was a woman 
grown. I forgot the long bridge that had carried me 
from infancy to motherhood. I forgot that I wus not a 
little child, and for a moment these beautiful sentiments 
of a living woman’s heart were my own : 

“ Mother, dear mother, the years have been long 
Since I last hushed to your lullaby song ; 

Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem 
Womanhood’s years have been but a dream. 

Clasp’d to your heart in a loving embrace. 

With your light lashes just sweeping my face. 

Never hereafter to wake or to weep ; — 

Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep ! ” 

With my arms clinging around my aunt’s neck I was 
rooked in silence till the emotions of my heart were 
quieted. Then taking the dear old face between my 
hands, and kissing the fond but troubled-looking eyes, I 
said : “ God bless you aunt Sam, for all you have done 


THE OLD HOME. I $3 

for me ! Had my own mother lived, she could have 
been no kinder to me.” 

“ My dear Jessie, you have more than repaid my care. 
You and sister Grace have inspired me with hope and 
strength regarding my domestic life. And for the sake 
of the love I bear you and all others of my sex, I will 
use what power I can for our mutual welfare.” 

“Well done, well done, dear aunt ! I rejoice to hear 
your resolve. If I can serve you either in persuasion, 
argument, or strategy, I will gladly do it. We have not 
only to work for ourselves, but for my uncle also.” 

Then I told her of my dream and of the poems in her 
diary — how they had worked a change in her husband’s 
heart and opened his eyes to new truths. 

“ But Jessie, how did you know of the poems ? They 
have been hidden away for many years with other papers, 
and were not intended for any eyes but mine.” 

“ I first knew of their existence that night, while I sat 
on my porch. How that grain of truth came in my mind 
I cannot tell. I sometimes think I have powers of un- 
conscious absorption, taking into my mental organiza- 
tion the conditions of those with whom I sympathize. I 
arrive at facts known only to them, but I have no name 
to give this singular power.” 

At this point in the conversation, Charley, and Grade 
Prim — the true Gracie — came in, and we were struck 
with the wonderful resemblance of the sisters. 

Being away from them both for so long a time, we had 
nearly forgotten how very, very much alike they were. 
We did not wonder at my uncle being deceived, more 
especially when he was nearly blind. 


154 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


After a delightful tea we all sat on the porch, and my 
aunt told us in detail hpw she came to represent her 
sister and deceive uncle Sam. She used to practise read- 
ing in her room, imitating Gracie’s peculiar tone of voice 
till she had it perfectly, and limping just enough to 
satisfy any reasonable person that it was Gracie Prim’s 
walk. 

(Poor Gracie ! In her early years she contracted a 
fever, while taking care of the sick soldiers in the hospi- 
tal, and it settled in her right leg, making her a cripple 
for life. Although she was an invaluable nurse in the 
army, she could recover no damages because she was a 
woman.) 

After uncle Sam’s sight improved so much, my aunt 
felt afraid he would discover her identity, and went to 
her cousin’s. But as a matter of fact, she was in no 
danger of detection, however nervous she became. 

“I am only waiting now,” said she, “to be recalled 
home. But you all know how proud and obstinate my 
husband is, and how he dislikes to acknowledge himself 
in error. I am very, very sorry for him in his present 
condition of mind, but I know if I yield my present ad- 
vantages my work will have been in vain.” 

Then Charley told her that we wished her to go home 
with us and reply to the speech made by Professor Wolfe; 
that since it was dictated by uncle Sam, the public ought 
to hear her side of the story. 

“ Good gracious ! ” said the poor old lady in great 
fright, “ I — I could n’t make a speech ! You children are 
crazy to talk of it.” 

“ Not at all,” said Charley, as he unrolled a paper and 


THE OLD HOME. 


155 


waved it over his head. “ Here are the names of many 
of our best citizens, petitioning you to give your views 
on the subject, and they ’ll not take no for an answer.” 

“ But Charley, I never th ” 

“ No, my dear aunt, you never thought of such a thing, 
but it 's possible for all that. All you have to do is to 
tell the story of woman’s worth and woman’s wrongs. 
The other side (her unworthiness and privileges) have 
already been dilated on by Professor Wolfe.” 

Wiping a suspicious moisture from her eyes my aunt 
replied : “ I feel as though it were treachery to my hus- 
band to expose his faults. I never did so in my life.” 

Certainly not,” said Charley. “ Neither would we 
have you do so, save in a general way. We only ask 
you to discuss your positions in government as men and 
women. He represents the one, you the other.” 

“Yes, Charley, I know; but my heart shrinks from 
the task. I regret the blows I will be obliged to give. 
If you only knew how dear my misguided husband is, 
you ” 

“ Prove your affection, dear aunt, by doing him this 
kindness. Meet him with calm reasoning, for he is in- 
telligent and noble at heart but powerless to help him- 
self without your aid.” 

And in this way did the lawyer argue till he won his 
case ; making my aunt feel that it was her duty to take 
his advice. 

In two days we were all to take our homeward trip, 
but those two days — how full of joys they were ! Their 
revelations were like fairy-land to my little ones, and 
their sweets came as a tidal wave to me. 


156 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


All day long did my happy children play over fields, 
woods, and paths. With busy feet and hands they ran 
to and fro, chasing the lambs and the butterflies, and 
racing after old Towser, flying from one delight to an- 
other. They were sung to sleep by the whippoorwill, and 
awakened by the robins. 

We visited the old school-house with its moss-covered 
roof, broken windows, and tumble-down steps on which 
Charley and I had lingered in our youth. 

We drank from the spring which used to quench our 
thirst, visited the playgrounds, climbed the fences, crossed 
the streams, explored the woods, and gathered ferns, 
rock, moss, and flowers ; while Charley and I, nothing 
but lovers still, talked of the sacred past and rosy future. 
“I love this old home,” said he, “because I first met^^?^ 
here.” 

“ And I love it, dear husband, because it is teeming 
with tender recollections of you. Here passed our days 
of childhood and courtship, and here were we married. 
To me the place is hallowed. But see, the sun is setting. 
Give me your arm, my love, that I may be nearer you as 
we travel this familiar path. Oh, what a happy, happy 
wife I am ! ” 




CHAPTER XX. 

PLYMOUTH ROCK. 

“ O sky-enshadowed and yearning main ! 

Your gloom but deepens this human pain ; 

Those waves seem big with a nameless care ; 

That sky is a type of the heart’s despair, 

As I linger and muse by the sombre lea, 

And the night-shades close on the autumn sea.” 

W HEN our delightful visit was over, we started 
home by way of Plymouth, or Pilgrim Ply- 
mouth, as it is designated by some. Charley 
and I were eager to see the place immortalized by our 
ancestors, and Gracie and my aunt were anxious to re- 
visit it. With bright expectations (and a basket of lunch) 
we boarded a vessel and made ourselves ready for 
events. 

In a short time our vessel worked her way between 
hundreds of others in the harbor, and passed beyond the 
Boston fortifications. A band on deck discoursed sweet 
music, and the bright streamers floating out on the 
breeze cast their shadows in the blue waters below 
them. 

When fully under way, we rapidly passed schooners, 
yachts, buoys, and light-houses ; going so near to the 
latter that we could speak to the occupants. 

157 



158 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Gray rocks beaten by the waves and fringed with small 
evergreen met our view, and also smooth, sandy beaches 
strewn with pleasure-seekers. Parties of frolicsome 
bathers revelled in the foamy billows, or floated quietly 
upon the waters — their red-capped heads bobbing up 
and down on the water like so many corks. 

Beautiful villages and palatial residences spread out 
before us, their red roofs and green backgrounds form- 
ing a lively contrast and giving a brilliant effect to the 
sea-shore. 

In Duxbury, one of the loveliest villages along the 
coast, we saw Captain’s Hill, the last resting-place of 
Captain Miles Standish. With a sigh of pity, I thought 
of the story told by his comrades of his unsuccessful 
wooing of the Puritan maiden. What a different life 
might have been his had he applied to his courtship his 
noble maxim : “ If you wish a thing well done, you must 
do it yourself.” 

There was much in our trip which was of great inter- 
est to my children ; the meeting with foreign vessels 
and their display of national colors giving Archie, more 
especially, great delight. 

The dreadful, bellowing sound of the fog-horns was a 
source of much wonder and merriment ; and the carcase 
of a whale made us feel that we were real travellers on 
the briny deep. 

Gracie pointed out many places of historical interest, 
among which was the rock which sheltered the Pilgrims 
the first Sabbath they spent in America. And, as we 
neared our destination, my aunt looked forth with eager 
eyes, seeking out the place that gave her welcome from 


PLYMOUTH ROCK. 


159 


old England’s shores, and where she and her brave hus- 
band suffered so many privations and dangers for the 
sake of mental liberty. 

What a world of experience she had gone through 
with since she first gazed upon that haven of rest ! What 
hopes born there and buried since, in the great city which 
was her home ! I did not wonder that tears dimmed her 
vision as she strained it across the distance in the attempt 
to see its familiar landmarks. 

On landing, our first object was to see the world- 
renowned Plymouth Rock itself. I led my little ones 
along, and in my haste to set foot on that consecrated 
spot, I momentarily forgot my companions, till climbing 
up on the rock I looked down behind me ; I saw my 
aunt kneeling down beside it, her face buried in her 
hands. At first she was so perfectly overcome with the 
varied recollections of the place, that she could not 
move. Then lifting her pale face she said : “ Here 
is the very spot the Mayflower grazed when we touched 
the soil of America. On this rock my feet found their 
first resting-place when my husband lifted me from the 
little ship that bore me safely over the deep. And 
amid the prayers of thanksgiving uttered by our com- 
panions, he whispered in my ear these assuring words : 

My love, my bride, here is the land of freedom. Here 
dearest, we will make our home and never know a 
tyrant’s power.’ Alas ! alas ! how has it been ? ” 

What a sad sight it was to see that grand soul buried 
in grief. As we stood upon that hallowed spot listening 
to the murmuring sea-waves, my heart was heavy with 
pity. There was something uncanny in the surround- 


i6o 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


ings. I felt as if the spirits of the Pilgrims, whose ashes 
were buried nearby, were hovering about in the vain en- 
deavor of giving comfort. 

When my aunt became quiet, Charley took her on his 
arm and walked up the green slope to Leyden Street, 
where the Pilgrims erected their first house. Though 
but twenty feet square and with thatched roof, to them 
it had seemed a palace, for it was home. But the house 
had long since been destroyed and we only stood on 
the ground where it had been. We passed up Main 
Street, where once stood the home of William Bradford, 
the first governor. Near by was the place where the first 
“meeting-house ” had been built, and just opposite, the 
County Court-House, an old tumble-down building 
erected in 1749. 

In our walks we rested in the shade of the beautiful 
old trees planted in 1784. 

We visited “ Burying Hill,” a lovely spot used from the 
earliest years of the colony as a “ city for the dead ” ; its 
tombstones bearing dates as far back as 1681. This was 
to the memory of Edward Gray, a wealthy merchant ; 
and another to Thomas Clarke, mate of the Mayflower^ 
was 1697. 

Tabitha Plasket, a widow lady, who used to teach 
school and spin at the same time, wrote her own epi- 
taph. It was as follows : 

“Adieu, vain world, I ’ve seen enough of thee ; 

And I am careless what thou say’st of me ; 

Thy smile I wish not. 

Nor thy frown I fear, 

I am now at rest, my head lies quiet here." 


PLYMOUTH ROCK. 


l6l 


Other queer verses were read and copied by us, as was 
also this inscription of Governor Bradford : 

“ Do not basely relinquish what the Fathers with dif- 
ficulty obtained.” 

We saw the tablet marking the place of the brick 
tower, built in 1643 ; and going down the slope, we 
found one of the springs where the Pilgrims used to get 
water. And there we ate our lunch and refreshed our- 
selves before pursuing our journey. 

Taking a carriage, we went to Pilgrim Hall, a new 
building erected as a monumental hall to the memory of 
the Pilgrims. 

In the ante-room an old clock, owned by Governor 
Hancock and made in 1706, was still keeping correct 
time. Our next attraction was a wonderful painting 
representing the landing of the Pilgrims. It was sixteen 
by thirteen feet and valued at $3,400. Another, the 
“ Embarcation,” took the first prize (a thousand guineas) 
at an exhibition in England. 

There were many historical engravings, paintings, and 
portraits. Among them were the “ Signing of the Com- 
pact,” “ Return of the Mayflower^'* and other fine works 
of art. 

We saw a fine model of the Mayflower^ the old Bible 
of John Alden, a collection of articles used in the sacra- 
ment in the “ First Church ” and the sword, pewter plat- 
ter, and iron pot of Miles Standish. There was also a bit 
of silk quilt and lace made by Rose Standish, who died 
soon after she came to Plymouth, and was buried in the 
wheat-fields to prevent discovery by the Indians. 

Valuable books, manuscripts, parchments. State papers, 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


162 

coins and relics of all kinds were neatly placed in cases 
and received a share of our attention. There were also 
interesting miscellaneous articles which had belonged to 
the Pilgrims, such as tables, chairs, spinning-wheels, can- 
dlesticks, canes, rapiers, spurs, stone implements, pottery, 
and cradle-beds. One of these was a queer little article 
made of solid wood, covered with leather and fastened 
with brass tacks. On seeing it, my aunt dropped down 
on her knees beside it, and touching it with a gentleness 
understood but by few exclaimed : “ In this homely little 
cradle for many years 1 rocked my babies. It pillowed 
their shining heads and held their dimpled forms. I have 
watched over it through anxious nights when my dar- 
lings were scorched with fever, prostrate with disease or 
falling into the cold embraces of death.” 

As she sobbed out this sad story, she drooped her poor 
old head over the empty crib, slowly and unconsciously 
rocking it, touching it with that inexpressible tenderness 
known to none but mothers who have looked in vain for 
their vanished angels. Then looking up with tearful 
eyes she continued : 

“But, when those sons who were left me, grew to 
manhood, they turned upon me with their cruel laws till 
I felt I had nursed but vipers on my bosom. 

“ Over on yonder hill lie many of my companions 
happily freed from the shame and sorrow I endure. 
Would to God I might rest with them in peace ! ” 

Seeing that the day had been too trying for her and 
too full of bitter recollections, we entered our carriage 
and from thence embarked for home. 

After a short and pleasant voyage we arrived at home, 


PLYMOUTH ROCK. 


163 

welcomed by Marcia and her little family. When dinner 
was over, Charley went down town, Grade disappeared 
with a book, my aunt rested on a sofa, and Marcia 
stroked her gray hairs and talked in her old impulsive 
way. 

As I rocked baby Dot to sleep, I was quite amused at 
the chatter of the children in an adjoining room, the sub- 
ject of birds being under discussion. Bessie remarked : 
“ Aunt Sam’s birds in the country don’t build on trees 
where we can’t see them. They make their nests on the 
grass, where we can sit down and look at ’em without 
tearing our clothes. Her birds are named quails.” 

“ Yes,” chimed little Archie, “ and her trees (snowballs 
and lilacs) has snice botays a growin’ already tied up, 
an’ cute little pigs .” 

“ The trees don’t have no little pigs on ’em,” said Bes- 
sie, regardless of all grammar. 

“ I did n’t said der tree has ’em, I says aunt Sam had 
’em in her lot, only you did n’t wait for me to get it good 
saided. I knows what I ’s a talkin’, I guess.” 

Archie gave his sister a very reproachful look and 
pouted his lips in quite an injured manner. 

“ O Lena ! we saw the prettiest humming-birds and 
butterflies .” 

Here Bessie was interrupted by her brother, who 
stretched himself to his full height, and spoke in great 
excitement. 

‘‘Yes,” said he, “it ’s der troof. An’ der flies (butter- 
flies) made all der butter we eated, an’ der little flies 
(bees) made all der honey. An’ oh, my ! der bites is 
jus’ orful ! One of ’em stuck his toof in my finder, an' 


64 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


bited a little big, long hole in it. An’ I eated some bread 
an' honey to cure it, and it did.” 

Archie subsided, and Bessie said : “We saw a pretty 
little lake with a whole lot of ducks a excursioning on it. 
They wus eating bugs and specks. I jus’ love roast duck 
with dressing, but live ducks don’t eat no dressing. 
Only the cooked ones live on that.” 

“ Ducks is mighty funny animals,” said Lena, musing- 
ly ; “ cause when they ’s got all their feathers on ’em the 
cooks says they ’s not dressed ; and when they ’s got 
nothing on, she says they is dressed. I don’t believe 
any such stuff.” 

“ Say, say, I wants ter talk some,” said Archie, as he 
rolled off the sofa. “ I wants ter ask Benny who he 
thinks is livin’ in a tree in the country. We ’s never saw 
him, but we loves him orful. Guess who.” 

Benny smacked his hands triumphantly, and shouted : 
“ Uncle Sam, of course.” 

“ Pshaw ! ” said Archie, “ don’t you know he lives in 
Waserton ? I means a great big man — orful fat ! He ’s 
got lots of money an’ goat-carts, an’ marbles, an’ drums, 
an’ eversing. Guess agin.” 

“ You nearly told it, Arch, it ’s Santa Claus.” 

“ No,” said Archie solemnly, “its God. You ’s got a 
orful bad guesser.” 

Here I called my little son and told him not to be 
wicked and untruthful, but he persisted in saying he was 
neither. 

“ Then how can you have such naughty talk ? ” I en- 
quired. 

“ Because its der troof, mamma. Don’t God make der 
snow fall ? ” 


PLYMOUTH ROCK. 165 

** Yes,” said I, looking with surprise at his earnest little 
face. 

Well, der flowers s?iows down out of der plum an’ lo- 
cus’ trees all der time. If God snows ’em, don’t he have 
ter climb up in der trees to do it ? ” 

The little philosopher looked so surprised at my igno- 
rance that I almost felt’ ashamed. But I restrained a 
smile and promised an explanation after tea. 




CHAPTER XXI. 

OUR aunt’s speech. 

F ELLOW-CITIZENS : Since the last arraignment 
of the suffrage party by some of your citizens 
(notably Professor Wolfe), I am honored with 
pressing invitations to reply. I am, as you all know, un- 
accustomed to speaking, so I throw the burthen of my 
deficiencies on those who solicit me. In the century of 
married life which I 've spent with my husband, who is 
known to you as “Uncle Sam,” I have had large oppor- 
tunity to study my subject. I will, therefore, give you 
my views as briefly as possible, beginning with this pass- 
age of Scripture : 

“And if they will learn any thing, let them ask their 
husbands at home, for it is a shame for a woman to speak 
in public.” 

This authority, which I am defying, is greatly respon- 
sible for the subjection in which woman is held. But, 
with the march of true religion and humanity, woman 
discovers that it is not a shame to speak in public. Un- 
fortunately all husbands are not fountains of knowledge, 
and wives are obliged to acquire information from other 
sources. 

Professor Wolfe says : “ The principles of the suffrage 



OUR aunt’s speech. 


167 


party are false,” but the assertion is based upon no fact, 
therefore entitled to no attention. So we will pass to his 
next statement : 

“ The ballot brings no benefits, morally or socially.” 

This is a new discovery, which the world is slow to 
realize. The privileges and blessings of this country are 
the results, to a great extent, of the ballot. It is the key 
to liberty in the hands of all those who possess it. 

“ Drunkenness in elections should debar a woman.” 

That the polls are indecent places without her, I ad- 
mit, but with her, they would become purified. We wish 
to lift politics up to woman, not lower her to politics. 
Her influence in society has always been good, and we 
only croak when we say that man would not respect her 
at the polls. 

“ Men would lose their chivalry- for women if they mix 
in politics, and chivalry is what they desire.” 

When I declare that women do not desire it, I voice 
the majority of my sex. The man paying most courtesy 
to ladies in society, may beat his wife when they are 
alone. There is no law to prevent it, and gentlemen of 
chivalry are often possessed of hasty tempers. What we 
want is justice ; only justice. 

“ The ballet by proxy is the better way for women.” 

If this be true, why do not men enjoy the advantages 
by proxy ? Massachusetts once had such a law, allow- 
ing none but church members (who were called free- 
men) to vote. North Carolina tried to establish a gov- 
ernment to be administered by lords and noblemen ; 
connecting political power with hereditary wealth, and 
placing nearly every office of the government beyond the 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


1 68 

people. This plan of monarchical power proved ineffec- 
tual. Man protested then, just as woman does now, 
against the proxy arrangement, even though it came from 
royalty. Experience proves that electors study no inter- 
est but their own. What then may a pure woman hope 
from the uneducated “ drunken ” men who do her voting ? 

“ If suffrage were universal, the fallen woman would 
vote.” 

And why not. Professor ? A fallen woman is on an 
exact moral level with a fallen man. If one be privi- 
leged, the other should be. No such woman exists with- 
out her counterpart in man, and that condition of society 
is false which protects one and punishes the other. I 
have no. apologies for vice in a woman, neither do I up- 
hold it because it is represented by man. It is hideous 
in either. But in woman it is more often caused by 
helplessness and despair, I think, than from vicious im- 
pulses. Financial incapacity and political injustice drive 
her into the valleys of temptation and shame. 

The fallen woman has never demanded the ballot. 
But if she should, is that any reason why virtuous women 
should shun it ? As well may we discard a neatly-fitting 
boot, or glove, a pretty bit of lace, or a handsome shawl, 
because our frailer sisters wear them. In such an ex- 
treme of virtue, few ladies indulge. 

But right here I would like to ask Professor Wolfe a 
question. If fallen men were denied the ballot, in what 
precinct could we find a dozen voters ? 

“ Women have no time to vote.” 

Men of all pursuits and professions find time to vote, 
and no one claims that it unfits them for husband or fa- 


OUR aunt’s speech. 


169 


ther. Just as they attend to business and the polls, so 
might we. It is not probable or desirable that all women 
should be politicians, wire-pullers, or governors, as that 
may be optional with them as with men. 

“ The ballot and the bullet go together.” 

Indeed ! Yet how strange it is that those who never 
went to war are first with this information ; or those 
who could not be induced to enter the army till they were 
drafted, and then only when substitutes could not be 
procured. Yet these men, these warriors (?) talk to us 
about the ballot and the bullet. Oh, for shame ! 

Woman’s refined nature, more than her lack of courage, 
unfits her for the army. Pity for the wounded and dying 
caused her to follow them through the bloody trails of 
war to administer to their wants. In self-forgetfulness, 
she alleviates their mortal anguish, thus proving her sym- 
pathy, endurance, and’ nerve. 

We are not permitted to join the army if we would, for 
man, saying nothing about his own incapacities, declares 
us unfitted for war. The public records of military sta- 
tistics, however, show that out of those men examined for 
the militia, more than a quarter were found unfit. 

“ Of journalists, 740 in every 1,000 were disqualified ; 
of preachers, 974 ; physicians, 670 ; lawyers, 544 ; lab- 
orers, 348 ; tanners, 216 ; iron-workers, 189.” 

Do those professional gentlemen insist on the laborers 
monopolizing the ballot becouse they are physically 
stronger than themselves ? 

“ At birth, the average weight of the male infant is 
more than the female.” 

Mothers probably knew that before Professor Wolfe 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


170 

made the startling announcement. But, admitting that 
he was the first discoverer of that weighty fact, — what of 
it ? Are voters to be tested by weight, size, and height ? 
If so, there must be a standard weight — say, one hundred 
and sixty pounds. What a melancholy time that will be 
for the delicate men and shrunken, gray-haired heroes of 
our country. Intellect, culture, benevolence, experience, 
and moral worth will have no influence, when nothing but 
flesh — human flesh — is the testimonial of worth. 

“Collegiate educations are wasted on a woman, as 
each one will marry, if she can"' 

Professor Wolfe reverses the facts, as every woman can 
marry if she will. And a thorough education is as neces- 
sary for the average woman as the average man. 

If astronomy, geometry, Latin, and Greek are useful 
to a man in plowing a field, weighing a ton of coal, or 
feeding the pigs, they are indispensable to a woman when 
she knits lace, milks the cow, or smacks the baby. 
Money may just as well be wasted on a woman’s super- 
fluous education as on a man’s. 

I advocate no waste for either, but wish each to have 
as good advantages as circumstances will admit. And, 
above all, the woman should be made self-sustaining, so 
that she be no burthen to any man, nor obliged to marry 
for actual shelter. To prevent the recurrence of these 
monstrous unions without love, I demand wider oppor- 
tunities for women. Man has too long blockaded her 
way to self-support, individuality, and independence. He 
left her no choice but to take what he would n’t have. 
The needle, washtub, and school (at half price), and 
keeping boarders, were callings coming under the head 


OUR aunt’s speech. 


I7I 

of “ womanly.” Handing coffee, biscuit, and butter three 
times a day to men — actual, sure-enough, living men ! 

Why is not woman guarded from all these mearis of 
support with as much care as she is from the easier ones ? 
Custom and law do not prevent her from actual suicide 
in any labor which has poor pay. Otherwise, she would 
be derided with pen and tongue, and hounded by the 
law for testing her strength so much. Did men wish to 
do their work, women would soon be fined and jailed, 
and the coast cleared for their manly representatives. 

By their tender protection, woman has not been al- 
lowed a place on the school board. It is feared that she 
might display legislative or executive ability. She might 
study the interest of teachers and pupils, and make a sug- 
gestion. She might give women teachers a fair remun- 
eration for their work. So long as she is under paid, a 
woman may teach without disgrace. But should she as- 
pire to a high salary and position, every spark of true 
modesty would disappear. 

“ If a woman had the ballot, she would only duplicate 
her husband’s vote.” 

And if she did, where ’s the harm ? Do not fathers 
and sons do the same ? Is either disqualified on that ac- 
count ? 

One objection is hardly answered before another arises, 
and this time it is the reverse of our last. 

“ A woman would not vote as her husband, and thus 
the home would be broken up.” 

The last century has established the fact that woman 
can endure all kinds of political differences and persecu- 
tions without leaving her home. Are we to understand, 


172 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


then, that man cannot submit to a fair political expres- 
sion from woman ? Is her nearest friend, protector, and 
fair representative unable to tolerate her honest convic- 
tions ? 

Would he desert his family because his wife and 
daughter voted against his candidates while his sons are 
not censured for the same act ? If so, the sooner such 
an unnatural bigot rids the household of his presence, 
the better for the family. 

Nothing creates such antagonisms as religious beliefs, 
yet woman is allowed to express her opinion on the sub- 
ject. Why does not man continue to select her religion 
for her and take upon himself the responsibility of her 
soul’s salvation, as in early days ? Why, if she be pos- 
sessed of a soul, is she permitted to use her own judg- 
ment in guarding it ? 

Because the men, the clergy, need her work. Were it 
not for woman there would be neither church, congrega- 
tion, nor pay ; for no man fears his own destruction 
enough to pay a very high premium on insurance. 

Woman, being the transgressor, must be looked after. 
She is kindly permitted (?) by the trustees, wardens, 
vestry, ministers, and all fixtures of the church, to go out 
several times a year soliciting funds. She is encouraged 
in getting up fairs, Dorcas societies, suppers, mites, soci- 
ables, lotteries, concerts, theatricals, donkey parties, and 
all manner of devices to get money out of the public to 
support the minister. She has ingenuity to run all these 
social machines to gather pennies, but she has no power 
in disbursing them. She gives the money she collects 
to the men^ and then subsides till time for more work. 


OUR aunt’s speech. 


173 


She dare not speak to humanity from the altar she 
builds ; she has no voice in the deliberations of theology. 
She mutely and unquestioningly accepts as true, what- 
ever her pastor tells her, nor troubles herself to use her 
own reasoning faculties. Why should she, when she ac- 
cepts the dogma that she is man’s mental inferior ? She 
and her family may have a little religious discussion oc- 
casionally, but nothing of an unpleasant nature. 

Just so could political differences be adjusted if woman 
had the ballot. There are disagreements any way, and 
since woman has the same interest in the country’s edu- 
cation, society, morals, and domestic life as man, why 
should she be denied her womanly influence on the 
same ? 

The Bible says : “For every woman that prayeth or 
prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoreth her 
head.” 

And Professor Wolfe says : “ Place woman before 

the public gaze, in the pulpit or on the platform, with- 
out the protection of her bonnet or shawl, and what 
becomes of her modesty, her virtue ? ” 

As a general thing, a bonnet is too small to conceal 
much modesty, but if modesty and virtue are represent- 
ed by such a frail fabric, why not let the woman wear it 
to speak in ? Or have it placed in some conspicuous 
position on the platform ? Or let some gallant gentle- 
man, like Professor Wolfe, hold an umbrella over the 
woman to protect her from the demoralizing public 
gaze ? Woman is willing to accede to any reasonable 
settlement of this vexed question. All she wants is to 
be able to speak or pray without dishonoring her head. 


174 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Professor Wolfe says : “ The ballot would make the 

woman masculine. She cannot comprehend the wide 
disparity in the dispositions of the sexes ! ” 

The Professor is mistaken. That ’s one of the things 
she fully comprehends. It ’s because she is not like man, 
that she desires a voice in the laws which control her. 
She has had abundant evidence that man neither does 
nor can represent her. There is such a “ wide disparity 
in the dispositions of the sexes,” that man cannot under- 
stand the needs or nature of woman. 

If politics are too vile for woman to participate in, 
then it is time indeed that she revolt against the subju- 
gation of such powers. If after all these years of expe- 
rience and opportunity man’s legislation has culminated 
in nothing better, it is time we rescue our sons and hus- 
bands from such foul associations. From such sources, 
no good legislation can come for woman. 

“ It is nonsense to give woman the ballot, because she 
would not use it.” 

How came the Professor so wise ? If his assertion be 
true, the shortest way out of all this trouble is to give 
woman the ballot. Since she ’ll not use it, there ’s noth- 
ing to risk and there ’ll be nothing else to argue about. 
But if, by some wonderful chance, some isolated woman 
should wish to vote, should n’t she have the privilege, re- 
gardless of the rest of womankind ? Suffrage need not 
be compulsory. 

The first sentiment ever uttered by my beloved hus- 
band (as a free man), and one of the grandest recorded 
in any age is this : “ We hold these truths to be self- 

evident : that all men are created equal ; that they are en- 


OUR aunt’s speech. 


175 


dowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights ; 
that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of 
happiness.” 

Yet, if this be true, why is it that every human being 
in our country is included in that protective clause but 
woman 2 Since man was not created her superior or 
master, at what period of evolution did he attain that 
position ? 

He cannot evade the question by saying that “all 
men ” and “ we the people ” in public documents have 
no reference to woman. The law speaks of woman as 
if she were of the masculine gender. It seems nothing 
inconsistent in serving a writ on Miss Mary Miles or 
Mrs. Eliza Barnett and calling them “ he ” and “ him.” 
Why then should n’t “all men” mean Mary and Eliza in 
the enjoyment of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happi- 
ness ? ” It is 

‘ ‘ Strange all this difference should be 
' Twixt tweedledum and tweedledee.” 

Professor Wolfe says : “ Women would not dare go 
through the miscellaneous crowds surrounding the polls.” 

And why not ? The same rough men and dirty boys 
confront them at the parks, theatres, wharfs, depots, and 
everywhere else of public interest. They were at the en- 
trance of this building when we came in. They are in 
the gallery now, yet here we are, none of us positively in- 
jured or demoralized. 

When woman is expected at the polls, the candidates 
will be sure to have every one of the places clean, quiet, 
and respectable. 


176 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


No true woman would be corrupted by passing those 
crowds of idlers, however unpleasant she found it. Any 
one who could, has but little character to lose, and would 
be unsafe anywhere. 

Woman, with her grand moral nature and refinement, 
would be a wonderfully purifying element in politics. 
Her worth was delicately but strongly acknowledged by 
the rough pioneers of a Western Territory. Crowding the 
wharf to see the first boat-load of women come to port, 
they exclaimed : “ Thank God ! the women are coming 
to make us better.’' 

Men who could say this would never insult women at 
the polls. Abuse, if it came at all, would be given by the 
gentlemen. 

“ Woman is lamentably ignorant of political economy.” 

And what incentive has she. Professor, to seek such 
knowledge ? Why should she spend her few leisure hours 
in reading the President's Message., or the lengthy ha- 
rangues of her persecutors ? She has no voice in the mat- 
ter and no interest which could be served. As literature, 
such reading matter is not very fascinating, instructive, 
or poetical. 

Man may as justly be censured for not knitting his 
own stockings or making patchwork. He is more stupid 
in these industries than his little seven-year-old daughter. 

When woman has use for political knowledge she will 
acquire it and spend less time in tucks, ruffles, and puffs. 
Until then, she has no occasion to excite herself over 
these public matters. 

And she need not tax her time, strength, or pocket to 
celebrate our national birthday, for it only reminds her 
of the injustice she endures. 


OUR aunt’s speech. 


177 


She need not run herself breathless to catch the excur- 
sion-boat on the Fourth of July, unless some treat awaits 
her besides hearing some one read the Declaration of In- 
dependence. What is it to herl 

Let the bands play our national airs, the cannons roar, 
the flags flaunt from their proud standard, the huzzahs 
resound through the woods, while the speaker declaims 
from the leaf-covered platform till the perspiration rises 
like dew on his heated face. Let his father gaze upon 
him with pride, but the speaker has not the sympathy of 
the women. For the mother who bore him, the wife 
who loves him, the daughters who obey him, and hun- 
dreds of sad-eyed women present know, that all this 
noise and loud eloquence only proclaim a Lie ! 

Woman’s very presence there is a terrible contradiction 
of all the enthusiastic declarations of freedom, and com- 
pletes the shameful and disgusting farce. 

According to the Constitution of the United States, 
woman is a citizen ; although politically she is treated as a 
slave. I am aware how men despise the word slave when 
applied to their wives, daughters, and mothers, but I 
know of no other to convey the sense of woman’s posi- 
tion. I use it in the same connection as did the dead 
statesmen and heroes whom all men honor. From their 
patriotic principles, woman gets the understanding of 
her own servile position. And the only way to improve 
the disagreeable word is to improve the conditions. So 
long as woman is classed politically with criminals and 
idiots, so long must she use harsh words to define her 
place in life. 

In honoring their fathers for resistance to tyranny, we 
wonder that men condemn women for the same. I 


178 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


would like to impress it on the masculine mind, that 
while “Uncle Sam” is the father of Liberty (such as it 
is), I am the mother : 

Our offspring inherited our mutual patriotism and cour- 
age, and entered the battle-field with our mutual blessing. 

Sons and daughters alike fell asleep while I sang them 
the “Star-Spangled Banner,” and both have trotted on 
their father’s knee to the tune of “ Yankee Doodle.” 

Man and woman, companion and equal by nature, 
must be so in a just government. As the control and 
harmony of the household depend upon both, so do the 
welfare and happiness of our country. The man’s clear 
judgment, strength of character, self-reliance, and steady 
determination, with the woman’s quick intuition, tender 
nature, self-denial, and trust, are all intended to blend 
into one harmonious whole. 

Man and woman, husband and wife, should have no 
separate interests. Life is incomplete without either, 
and home imperfect without both. 

The household is a little dominion, the children are 
the citizens, and the parents the happy rulers ; their 
declarations and laws are those of mutual love. 

As the public mind expands and education advances, 
prejudice recedes and humanity appears. And trust in 
it will yet give birth to universal freedom. 

In the near future. Oppression shall unclasp her bony 
fingers from the lives of the mothers of this nation, and 
then shall Peace fold her soft wings upon our hearts and 
make her home within. 

Then, and not till then, can woman look on the stars 
and stripes of her country with tearless eyes, or realize 
the meaning of Freedom — Liberty ! 



CHAPTER XXII. 

RELEASED. 

A S time went by there were efforts on the part of 
citizens to persuade the Professor to bring his 
wife home, but he very promptly invited them 
to attend to their own affairs. And, suspecting that the 
children had been spirited away, he demanded their 
custody. He might have made a strong case of this had 
he known whom to attack, but so far the matter was a 
mystery to him. He said the girls should be bound out 
to work, as each could earn considerable toward his 
own support. 

After blustering about a few days he made arrange- 
ments for the public sale of his wife’s household effects, 
horse and carriage, and wearing apparel. She had a 
few handsome pictures, nice table-ware and several pieces 
of silver given her by her father, which she had man- 
aged to retain through all her financial struggles. 

On the day of the sale the Professor was in a very 
irritable and domineering mood and got into a con- 
troversy with one of his companions. He immediately 
fired a revolver at the man, but missed his aim, and was 
killed by his opponent’s ball. 

The auction came to a halt, and the body was carried 


179 



i8o 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


into the bare, dreary parlor and prepared for interment. 
And on the following day, all that was mortal of Pro- 
fessor Wolfe was put in the grave. 

In a few days afterward the orphans were brought 
home to us, and Charley and some of our influential 
citizens went to the Asylum and demanded the release 
of Mrs. Wolfe. Various preliminaries, much red-tape 
work, inconvenience, and unnecessary expense attended 
this performance; the ‘‘majesty of the law” being a 
great drawback to any haste in correcting error. It was 
a very easy matter for a ruffian to imprison his wife in 
this wretched place, but almost an impossibility for 
good men, in numbers, to set her free. 

But succeeding at last, they brought Mrs. Wolfe to my 
house, her arrival being an event of public interest. All 
her acquaintances noted how pale, thin, and nervous she 
was, and dreaded the final result of her incarceration. 

She and her children were^lmost hysterical in the joy of 
reunion. Mingling their tears together, and closely em- 
braced, they made a picture never to be forgotten. The 
crowd of people who met to welcome them were greatly 
affected. Married women wore an expression of enquiry 
in their pale faces, as if to say, “ Are we not all liable 
to the same fate ? ” They were learning a lesson which 
would never fade from their memories. 

After a week’s rest Mrs. Wolfe wished to take posses- 
sion of her home and set things to rights again. But, to 
her dismay, she found this could not be done. The 
house was only rented, and its contents held subject to 
her husband’s creditors. She could neither draw her 
money from the bank in which it was deposited by her 


RELEASED. 


i8i 

husband, collect interest, or have any benefits whatever 
of her hard-earned possessions. Having married, they 
were no longer hers. 

The property would have to be appraised and her 
husband’s debts satisfied before she would know whether 
any thing remained to her. 

The Probate Court necessarily stepped into her hus- 
band’s shoes to take from her what an unscrupulous man 
had not lived to squander. And between her protec- 
tors (?), her husband and the law, she had fair prospects 
of dying in the poor-house. 

In talking with the legal authorities she tried to ex- 
plain her affairs so well that only justice could be done. 

“ Gentlemen,” said the poor widow, “you surely mis- 
apprehend the situation. The whole property and all 
the monies are mine. My husband owned nothing. I 
earned every dollar myself and never received any thing 
from Professor Wolfe. I need all I have for the support 
of myself and these fatherless, motherless children.” 

“ We are aware of the facts, madam, but are com- 
pelled to hold your possessions. Those children are not 
your bodily heirs, nor the Professor’s. They were never 
formally adopted by either. Therefore, if any thing 
remains over your one third after the debts are paid, it 
will go to your late husband’s heirs or executors. There 
is no alternative.” 

How these words struck home to my heart as I real- 
ized the severity of laws for widows. 

“ Even so would it be for me,” I said, “ were dear 
Charley taken away. The sacredness of my home would 
be invaded, and property accumulated by us both would 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


182 

belong to but one — that one in his grave and powerless 
to spare his family from the desolation and persecutions 
which overwhelm them. 

“ At his death, I would have nothing in the world but 
the ‘ one third ’ allowed to grief-stricken wives, and even 
that might be embezzled by the executors, in which case 
I could not afford the expense nor social discomforts of 
a lawsuit, and my ignorance of all such matters would 
make me a prey for those conducting my affairs. 

“The custody of my children would be given to 
strangers — men who have no interest but money-interest 
in fatherless children. I could not even have the ap- 
pointment of guardians, — I who have suffered the awful 
tragedy of childbirth, and who love my darlings better 
than my own soul. O God of the fatherless ! what an 
outrage this is on mothers ! 

“ Fathers can dispose of both property and children, 
even during the mother's life ; marriage being the only 
contract, firm, or copartnership in which only one party 
has control, in which every thing might be sold or willed 
away from the remaining partner. Can any one of 
sound mind believe such laws just ?” 

However, there was no use in my worrying over these 
unsavory facts, for it could not benefit the woman for 
whom I felt such sympathy. She seemed more resigned 
in the few months she spent with us, but was taking 
comfort, I feared, in the hope that her life would be but 
short. She had been a brave soldier in the past, and 
fought many hard battles with poverty and persecution. 
But she was losing her interest in business matters and 
sinking into an indifference which seemed dangerous. 


RELEASED. 


183 


She said there was no use to try, for she could not rally. 
Her physical strength was gone and her confidence in 
mankind was shaken. 

Yet she was gentle and refined, and her amiability 
won the friendship of all who came under her influence. 
She and Edna were fast friends, and one morning when 
the latter came in looking so shy and happy, I felt sure 
some bright surprise awaited us. She carried baby Waif 
in her arms and whispered to him to hand the package 
in his hand to Mrs. Wolfe. On opening it Mrs. Wolfe 
found the deed to a home presented to her by Edna. 

The happy recipient caught the child to her arms, 
kissing its sweet mouth again and again. Then taking 
its mother’s hand in her own, and looking fondly in her 
face, she said : “ I have no proper words of thanks, yet 
this I must say : It is almost worth a lifetime of trouble 
to be able to meet one person as true and unselfish as 
you. Dear friend, your noble spirit will sometime meet 
its reward.” 

“ Thanks,” said Edna, with faltering voice, “for your 
kind words. Had not the angels given this little boy to 
me I would not be able to make a gift. I would not to- 
day, have a home of my own. As it is, my wealth would 
be too great a burthen were it not divided with others ; 
for riches are only valuableTor the happiness and good- 
derived from them.” 

Mrs. Wolfe’s home was a neat, cheery-looking cottage, 
comfortably and tastily furnished throughout, and ad- 
joining Edna’s own property. Charley employed the 
elder girl as copyist, and happily for him and her she 
proved a very reliable worker. 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


184 


Edna and I did all we could for Mrs. Wolfe to make 
her comfortable. After a term of months (in which 
time Mrs. Wolfe would have starved without help) she 
ascertained that there was only a pitiful mite left her 
from her husband’s creditors. She bore the news quite 
tranquilly — thanks to Edna’s generosity, — saying : 
“ Homes and property should belong to the survivor, be 
they men or women. I expected nothing for my share 
of my own earnings since I understand how unjust the 
laws are to women. They are only made to rob and 
punish them and not to protect.” 

When Elvira heard of all these various occurrences, 
she was greatly disgusted with Edna. “ What a noodle 
she is,” said she, “ to bestow her fortune on paupers, in- 
stead of making some display with it. She ’ll never do 
like other people, or amount to any thing in the fashion- 
able world. I have no patience with her.” 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

BIBLE PROOFS. 

T he circumstances regarding Professor Wolfe’s 
family seemed to distress my uncle very much. 
They showed in a practical way the barbarous 
results of the laws governing women. This my uncle 
admitted, with the assurance that he hardly knew where 
to begin the remedy. By enacting such laws and train- 
ing his sex to believe them correct, he had, in a measure, 
tied his own hands. In groping around wildly for some 
excuse for his injustice, he finally put the blame on the 
Bible. He referred me to Ezekiel xx. (25), which says ; 
“ Wherefore I gave them also statutes that were not good, 
and judgment whereby they should not live.” 

I replied : ^^^M\.your laws are not mere dead letters, 
they are mercilessly enforced, and you have claimed 
them as perfect. 

“You refer me to Ephesians v. (22, 23, 24) : ‘Wives 
submit yourselves to your own husbands as unto the 
Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as 
Christ is the head of the Church : and he is the Saviour 
of the body. Therefore as the church is subject unto 
Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in 
every thing.’ 


185 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


1 86 


“Were wives subjective to their husbands in every 
thing, as is here commanded, many families would be 
morally ruined. 

“ Again you quote — I. Corinthians xi. (3) : ‘ But I 

would have you know that the head of every man is 
Christ ; and the head of every woman is the man.’ 
‘ Neither was the man created for the woman ; but the 
woman for the man.’ I. Corinthians xi. (9). 

“ If written by inspiration this ought to be true, and 
so ought the following verses in the same chapter : 
‘ Doth not even nature itself teach you that if a man have 
longhair, it is a shame unto hiin ? But if a woman have 
long hair, it is a glory to her ; for her hair is given her 
for a covering.’ 

“ Now, my dear guardian, in what way does nature 
teach us this ? And what woman ever wore her hair for 
a covering? Nature gives man and woman both long 
hair, but man repudiates the gift, and cuts his hair 
short. Custom, not nature, demands that man should 
wear short hair, and custom and man’s own arrogance 
style man the ‘ head ’ of woman. 

“ Again you refer me to Scripture, I. Timothy ii. 
(ii, 12, 13, 14). ‘ Let the woman learn in silence with 

all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor 
to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence. 
For Adam was first formed, then Eve. And Adam 
was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in 
the transgression.’ 

“ The reason given here for woman’s subjection is, 
that Adam was first formed. Let us look at that matter 
a moment In Genesis v. (i, 2) : ‘In the day that God 


BIBLE PROOFS. 


187 


created man, in the likeness of God made he him. 
Male and female created he them, and called their name 
Adam, in the day when they were created.’ 

“ Here then is a positive statement that male and fe- 
male were created on the same day, and were both named 
Adam. The reference made to ‘them’ and ‘their’ 
shows that more than one person is meant. So that 
does away with Paul’s excuse for subjection in women. 

“ When man and woman were created they were equal. 
Genesis i. (27, 28) : ‘ And God blessed them, and God 

said unto them: Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish 
the earth, and subdue it ; and have dominion over the 
fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over 
every living thing that moveth upon the earth.’ 

“ You see, uncle, the authority was not all given to the 
man, but to both ; and the products of the world were 
equally divided. 

“ As to the story of the transgression, it ’s a plain case 
that if Adam was not deceived, and broke the laws of 
God intentionally, he was the transgressor instead of Eve. 
A man with a particle of principle would never have put 
the blame on his wife as he did. ‘ The woman whom 
thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree and I 
did eat.’ Genesis iii. (13). 

“ It would have been more to his credit to have said : 
‘ The serpent deceived my wife, therefore I pray you 
forgive her. She is an ignorant, inexperienced young 
thing and never saw any devil but that one who beguiled 
her. Moreover, being a woman, she is anxious for 
knowledge, and has poor opportunities to gain it. I pray 
you put the blame on me^ for 1 knew better than to com- 
mit sin.’ That ’s what he should hsiWQ said. 


i88 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ You bring up as another excuse for your conduct, I. 
Corinthians xiv. {34) : ‘ Let your women keep silence in 
the churches, for it is not permitted unto them to speak ; 
but they are commanded to be under obedience, as also 
saith the law.’ 

“ I take the same authority, Paul, and answer, II. Cor- 
inthians vii. (23) : ‘Be not ye the servants of men.’ 

“ Also, I. Corinthians vii. (3) : ‘ Let the husband ren- 
der unto the wife due benevolence.’ 

“ How would you gentlemen like to have your wives 
ringing that sentence in your ears, especially if it were 
made the pretext for restraining your liberties ? 

“ Again, Gal. iii. (28) : ‘ There is neither Jew nor Greek, 
there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor 
female : for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.’ 

“ In the face of this, how dare man make the Bible his 
excuse for the persecution of woman ? 

“ You men assume the authority of the scribes, and say, 
as in Matthew xxiii. (2, 3) : ‘ The scribes and the Phari- 
sees sit in Moses’ seat : all, therefore, whatsoever they 
bid you observe, that observe and do.’ 

“ That ’s all very fine, my dear uncle, but what will we 
do with this passage in the same chapter, verse 14 ? 
‘ Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for 
ye devour widows’ houses, and for a pretext make long 
prayers ; therefore ye shall receive the greater damna- 
tion.’ 

“Also read in Exodus xxiii. (22, 23, 24) : ‘ Ye shall not 
afflict any widow or fatherless child. If thou afflict them 
in any wise, and they cry at all unto me, I will surely 
hear their cry ; and my wrath shall wax hot, and I will 


BIBLE PROOFS. 1 89 

kill you with the sword ; and your wives shall be widows, 
and your children fatherless.’ 

“ According to that, wars are instigated by divine wrath 
for the sole purpose of punishing you for the afflictions 
you put upon women and children, and for the legal rob- 
beries you make them submit to. Your laws regarding 
Probate Courts and the custody of children are unques- 
tionably among the obnoxious ones requiring this threat- 
ened vengeance. 

“ You say I must read I. Peter ii. (13) : ‘ Submit your- 
selves to every ordinance of man, for the Lord’s sake.^ 

‘‘ You will find a counteracting influence in Isaiah Iviii. 
(6) : ‘ Undo the heavy burdens ... let the oppressed 
go free . . . break every yoke.’ 

“ In regard to woman’s ability, read Proverbs xxxi. 
(26) : ‘ She openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her 
tongue is the law of kindness.’ 

Proverbs i. (8, 9) : ‘ My son, hear the instruction of 
thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother.’ 

“ Proverbs vi. (20) : ‘ My son, keep thy father’s com- 
mandment, and forsake not the law of thy mother.’ 

“ There ! Woman ‘ laid down the law,’ and man abided 
by it. And woman could n’t open her mouth without 
uttering ‘ wisdom and kindness.’ Remember, this esti- 
mate of her worth is by Solomon, the wisest man in the 
world. Why not take him for authority instead of Paul ? 
Why hold Paul up for a judge of such matters when, 
according to his own confession, he was totally unfitted ? 
For proof of this statement, read Romans vii. (19, 21, 23) : 
“ For the good that I would, I do not : but the evil which 
I would not, that I do. I find then a law that, when 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


190 

I would do good, evil is present with me. But I see 
another law in my members, warring against the law of 
my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of 
sin which is in my members.’ 

“ Don’t censure me for what Paul says : it was his vol- 
untary statement, and I only repeat it from compulsion. 
I am tired of hearing him given as authority for man’s 
injustice to woman. 

“ Since he always did what he did n’t intend to, you are 
undoubtedly deceived in his commands. If ‘ evil ’ and 
‘ sin ’ had n’t been warring in his mind, he would n’t 
have said such stupid things about women. He was 
trying to say : ‘ Let your women not be silent : neither 
in church nor at home. Let them hasten to be first in 
legislation, nor be in subjection to their husbands. For 
Adam was first formed, then Eve. Therefore, he being 
the elder and stronger, he shall give the woman all pos- 
sible advantages, as also saith the law.’ 

“ That ’s what he was struggling to say, when ‘ evil ’ 
took possession of him and thwarted his wise purposes. 

“In my opinion, your Bible authority for the humilia- 
tion of women is of a very weak quality. The wrong is 
\x\.you only, and you may well exclaim with poor, old re- 
morseful Paul : ‘ The good that I would, I do not.’ 

“ The only reason I can find in the Bible why man 
should usurp all authority is in I. Corinthians vi. (4) : 
‘ If then ye have judgment of things pertaining to this 
life, set them to judge who are least esteemed in the 
church.’ 

“ That ’s the strongest argument I can find for you. 

“ Knowing woman’s religious tendencies, man holds 


BIBLE PROOFS. 


I9I 

the Bible over her head with a ‘ Thus saith the Lord.’ 
While the fact is, man himself is the dictator, and the 
only one. Paul was nothing but a man, and men have 
preached and enforced his personal vices and wretched 
dogmas for hundreds of years. There is no evidence 
whatever that God — the infinite, loving Father — ever com- 
manded woman to be treated like an idiot. On the con- 
trary, if he selected her to be the mother of Jesus, she 
must have had much divine favor. Commands of any 
especial importance would undoubtedly have been given 
to her direct. There was no occasion for a third party. 
There ’s a mistake about it somewhere, you may depend, 
or things would be more equalized. Men have written 
and re-written the Bible countless times, and have had it 
revised till it would seem that but little of the original is 
left. Yet they would have us believe that all its man- 
made errors and cruelties were inspired by God. They 
ask too much even of female credulity. 

“I often wonder why men are such sticklers for theol- 
ogy in all matters pertaining to laws for women, and so 
careless in every other direction. If there ’s any thing 
good to be derived, it ’s a pity men should be too gener- 
ous to reserve any for themselves. We object to their 
self-denial. 

“ You enquired why I should be so restless and dis- 
contented when I have every blessing heart can ask. 
Sheltered from misfortune by a loving, thoughtful hus- 
band, surrounded by my little ones, and each day falling 
like a benediction on my life, why should I not be con- 
tented ? Why not cast all shadows from me and revel in 
the sunshine ? 


192 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


“ I would do so but for my sympathy with human 
misery. I pity the thousands of women who are dragging 
out wretched lives because of the false social and politi- 
cal condition of our country. Thousands of children as 
innocent and sweet as mine have never known the sensa- 
tions of either pleasure or comfort. Can I shut out from 
my soul the knowledge of their woes and lamentations 
because of my own escape ? Can I think no human ex- 
perience of consequence but my own ? 

“ No, no ! So long as even one person suffers injustice 
from his fellow-man, I feel an interest in his release. I 
cannot fold my hands in depraved idleness, surfeiting 
myself on pleasures, and robbing others of my sympathy 
and aid. I shall not wait until the ‘ spread-eagle ’ time 
arrives, for, in that victorious hour, my presence will not 
be needed. 

“You warn me that I will lose caste in society and 
personal friends because of the position I assume. I am 
well aware of that, dear uncle. All agitators of unpopu- 
lar views, all reformers, to some extent, suffer social os- 
tracism. Their moral inferiors all claim the right to 
misrepresent them and to prejudice others. While I do 
not invite this unkindness, I expect it, and am willing to 
accept my punishment for the sake of principle. Those 
who know me best will be unchanged. 

“ Aunt Sam is at my house, and, as your wife, has had 
numbers of people interviewing her on this subject. 
These visits and general public interest have worked a 
result which will astound you. I hardly know how to 
tell you the news, which you must eventually hear, yet, 
as no one else volunteers, I must do it myself. It must 


BIBLE PROOFS. 


193 


have been ^ foreordained ’ that I should worry and shock 
you, for that seems the inevitable. Fate drives me on, 
so I will plunge into the worst at once. 

“ Uncle Sam, you dear, unsuspecting old innocent ! 
your arguments given through Professor Wolfe are 
answered. 

“ There, now ! I ’ve not told you what I intended to, 
and have it all to begin again. 

“ Dear uncle (I dorCt want to hurt your feelings) — 
good uncle — -pretty uncle — your wife made a political 
speech ! 

“ Don’t now — please don’t have a stroke of apoplexy. 
It ’s not pleasant or healthy. Just keep perfectly quiet 
till you count ninety-nine, and then the danger ’s over. 

“All nonsense aside, uncle, I wish I could put my 
arms around your neck and cheer you in this your hour 
of seeming desertion. Since my party is growing strong 
in the combat I am full of sympathy for you. I almost 
have it in my heart to regret your wife’s spirit of inde- 
pendence and common-sense. 

“ But, since the ball of reformation is started, there ’s 
no stopping it if we would. You will have to travel the 
road of progression or be trampled under foot. 

“ Come with us, then, while your limbs are somewhat 
strong. We will retrace with you the backward journey 
of life till you undo the wrongs created by your sover- 
eignty. And that you may the better understand their 
enormity, I enclose your wife’s protest, as given to our 
citizens. May you nevermore merit her reproaches. 

“ Though the silver threads are fast sprinkling your 
brow, there is yet much for you to do. There are 


194 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


brighter laurels awaiting you than you have ever worn. 
Your crowning glory shall yet be — the enfranchisement 
of woman. 

“ Then come to my home, dear uncle, and in our 
happy reunion we will sing with a new meaning : 

“ ‘ And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave 
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.’ ” 




CHAPTER XXIV, 

TRAPPED. 

‘ ‘ Where the fault may be resting we ’ll stay not to tell. 

Its curse on the spirits of both of us fell.” 

A fter Grade Prim (as unde Sam continued to 
believe his wife) left him the house seemed in- 
tolerably lonely, although it was never free of 
society people. Aristocratic ladies and gentlemen were 
continually coming and going since uncle Sam’s recovery. 
But he knew they felt no interest in him aside from his 
power of conferring favors. 

“ I don’t want the mere sight of human faces and 
sound of voices,” said he ; “I pine for domestic compan- 
ionship and family sympathy. The house seems like a 
tomb since my wife and Gracie are out of it. I miss 
their company and attentions more than I ever could 
believe, had I not had experience.” 

The poor old man was strolling out in his garden vainly 
seeking happiness. He had gathered a large bunch of 
his rarest fxowers, refusing the gardener’s assistance or 
suggestions. 

“ I don’t want you to meddle,” said he, rather bluntly. 
I want to forget for one brief moment that I am greats 
^95 


196 OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 

SO that I may have the privileges of other men. I would 
like to feel assured that there are no public spies watch- 
ing my every step, that no scribbler is hidden some- 
where, jotting down the hour of my morning walk, the 
probable quality and quantity of my breakfast, the style 
of my toothpick, and the complexion of my nose. I 
used to be proud of these attentions from the reporters, 
but it ’s getting rather monotonous.” Uncle Sam was 
addressing these remarks to himself, as the gardener had 
tipped his hat at the moment of his master’s rebuke, and 
turned away in “ high dudgeon.” 

“ Even in as simple a matter as this,” here uncle Sam 
put the end of a string in his mouth, wrapping it around 
the stems of his flowers as if they were a grocer’s package, 
— “ even in this, I miss the delicacy and tact of my wife’s 
hand. I ’m ashamed to call this thing a bouquet, it 
looks so uneven, awkward, and stiff. And, by the holy 
Jumbo ! it has n’t as sweet scent as usual.” 

With a few enquiring sniffs the speaker threw the bou- 
quet away, gathering instead a few pinks, which he put 
in his button-hole. “ These remind me,” said he, gently, 
of the garden in the old home ; the place where my 
wife daily waits with heavy heart for me to recall her. 
This I would gladly do, but I ’m ashamed to see her, af- 
ter all that ’s transpired. I wish some accident would 
call her home. If she could only hear that I ’d broken 
my leg, or something to that effect, she ’d forget the past 
and come at once. This kind of life is becoming intol- 
erable. I believe I ’d drown myself were it not for my 
faithful old servants ; but they, good souls, almost wor- 
ship me. Heigho ! I believe I ’ll rest here awhile.” 


TRAPPED. 


197 


Walking into the open door of an ante-room, the weary- 
old man dropped down on a tempting couch to take a 
short nap. 

Sallie the maid and John the butler were in an adjoin- 
ing room, and unconscious of their master’s close prox- 
imity. They chatted without any restraint till they 
finally arrested their master’s attention. 

“ I say, John,” quoth Sallie, “ what d’ ye think the mas- 
ter ’s up to, anyhow ? He ’s a hangin’ on to that old Bible 
like ’s his life depended on ’t ; an’ a lookin’ that gloomy 
*s if he ’d repented of all his sins.” 

“An’ it ’s time, Sallie, that he did repent. He ’s had a 
long life, an’ to my mind none too good neither, though 
the world thinks him a saint. I ’s lived with him this 
thirty year, an’ it ’s the fust time I ever seed him open 
that Bible. Ther ’s no good in him readin’ so much all 
to once, unless, Sallie, may be he ’s goin’ to turn clergy.” 

“A fine ole cleygy he 'd make, Mr. John, a cussin’ 
every time the missus wants a penny ; an’ his temper jis’ 
that quick that it ’s like a bilin’ teakittle — all of a splut- 
ter in a minit. It was mitey mean of him to drive mis- 
sus from home. I hear him do it ; but I tell you. Miss 
Grace were n’t afeered of him. She uster look so care- 
less and independent-like, an’ say things to master that 
made his hair stan’ on end. His wife would a gone in- 
ter conniptions at the mere thought of sich talk. I wish 
/were his wife awhile.” 

“ Why, Sallie, ye don’t never mean that ye wants ter 
marry him, does ye ? ” . 

“ No, ye igiot, I don’t never mean that I wants ter marry 
him,'' said Sallie, mocking both tone and words of her 


198 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


companion. “ I only wants ter boss him till I makes a 
decent husban’ of him.” 

“ I wish ye ’d make a decent husban’ of me,” said 
John, in a foolish, embarrassed way. 

This bold proposition was declined as promptly as it 
was made. 

“ Could n’t be done, John, ’cause ye ’s sich a ole goose, 
jus’ a ole goose.” 

John’s countenance fell, and he drew a long, troubled 
breath, as his companion returned to their former sub- 
ject. 

^^As I was a sayin’, when you bothered me. Miss Gracie 
said jus’ what she pleased, and master dare n’t interfere, 
though I never could tell why. I uster listen outside the 
door.” 

“An’ I too,” acknowledged John; “an’ I knowed 
master wus mad enough ter bust. I likes it ; it ’s jus’ 
nuts for meT 

Here the speaker gave a loud laugh, which made his 
master tremble with a desire to strangle him. 

“There ’s somethin’ a brewin’, John, but I can’t git the 
hang on ’t. Yesterday I overhear the governor talkin’ 
ter hisself, an’ says he, kinder sorrerful : ‘ I ’s been a rael 
ole brute.’ So I ups an’ says — I a talkin’ ter myself — 
‘ them ’s my senterments, master.’ ” Here Sallie gave 
her fellow-servant a merry whack with a broom, as she 
passed near him. 

“ Devil take the impudent jade ! ” said the concealed 
listener ; “ I am tempted to throw her out of the win- 
dow. Here I ’ve always thought this pair of knaves the 
perfection of faithfulness and humility, while in truth 


TRAPPED. 


199 


they are Satan’s own children. I ’ll discharge them 
both, that I will.” 

His further ruminations were broken into by John, as 
he said : “ Master ’s good enough to us. We gits our wit- 
ties and home and a fair sum for hard times. There ’s 
worse pussons than master.” 

‘‘ Now that ye say it, prove it,” was the defiant answer 
to John’s remark. 

I disrekleck any purticler one jus’ now, unless it be 
ole Atkins.” 

“ Nothin’ of the kind, sir. He ’s good when he ’s so- 
ber. Ye never hear of his wife a bein’ driv from home 
on a visit(?). An’ he gives her money when he ’s got it, 
without asking her fifty times what she ’s goin’ ter do 
with it. Our missus never had sich good luck. Poor 
missus ! many ’s the time I see her sheddin’ securt tears 
over that ole hyena’s treatment ; grievin’ her soul out ’n 
her, poor, patient creetur ! ” Very perceptible sobs ac- 
companied these words, and the “ select audience ” was 
now upright on the couch, angered at the observant and 
familiar manner of servants. Their way of treating their 
subject was forcible, if not pleasant. Dipping a towel 
in a pan of water and washing some glassware, Sallie 
continued : “ I ’d a seed the old cross-grain creetur ter 
the lower region afore I 'd be put out ’n the house. Do 
ye see how I ’s a wringin’ this cloth ? Well, that ’s jus’ 
the way I ’d wring my husban’s neck, ruther than put up 
with sich tantrums.” Here the damsel gave a warning 
look at her nervous admirer, as she shook the towel till 
it cracked like a whip. 

Uncle Sam instinctively loosened his necktie and drew 


200 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


a long breath, realizing for the first time in his life the 
value of personal safety. 

“ Sallie,” said John, in an insinuating voice, “I think 
ye ’re too impatient with men, or ye ’d a jined hearts 
an’ ban’s with me long ago.” 

The glance accompanying this remark was calculated 
to melt a cast-iron heart. 

“ Jined fiddlesticks ! D’ ye think I want a whiskey bot- 
tle a bossin’ an’ a hinderin’ me 7 Ye need n’t look so 
conflusticated, Mr. John, for it ’s a hundred times I see 
ye takin’ a pull out ’n master’s private bottle. My eyes ! 
how he ’d swear if he knowed it ! ” Sallie was so much 
amused at her own reflections, and also her swain’s crest- 
fallen countenance that she propped her fat body against 
the wall to steady it while she laughed. This brought 
on a spell of coughing which compelled her to go out of 
doors for fresh air. 

After her master assured himself that he was unob- 
served, he crept cautiously to his own room, covered with 
confusion and perspiration, deeply mortified, yet very 
indignant that his high social position did not protect 
him against criticism, even in his own household. And 
the feeling that he must set a good example for the pub- 
lic was entirely a new sensation to him. 

“ But I ’ll teach John not to pilfer my bitters,” said he, 
with a vicious smile ; ‘T ’ll set a trap for the sly old fox. 
A trap he ’ll never forget.” Taking his bottle of liquor 
from the cabinet he put a powder in it and replaced it 
again, saying, “ 1 ’ll fix him, I ’ll fix him, I ’ll fix the con- 
summate scamp.” And uncle Sam laughed immoderately, 
as he thought how clever, how very, very clever he was. 


TRAPPED. 


201 


Several days passed away in which John withstood all 
temptations of stealing a dram. Perhaps he feared Sal- 
lie’s watchful eyes, or possibly he was trying to reform. 
Anyway the “ tincture of maize” was entirely forgotten 
by uncle Sam, as he rarely ever tasted it any more. 

One day after reading the news of his wife’s public 
speech, he sat in such a dazed, unconscious condition 
that John became alarmed. He gave him a glass of 
liquor, hoping it would restore him, but in a few mo- 
ments after drinking it, the master became violently ill. 

The family physician was called, but before he had 
time to administer to the wants of uncle Sam, John was 
down with the same symptoms. There was much excite- 
ment, confusion, and running back and forth of interested 
parties. Consulting M.D.’s were called i», and each in 
his own wise way pronounced the disease pernicious, 
contagious, and fatal. And each gave it a different 
Latin name, — terrible names enough, almost, to frighten 
ordinary people to death. 

Prescriptions by the score were filled, and the patients 
took enough medicines to make the stoutest hearts (and 
stomachs) quail. The poor sufferers were told to pre- 
pare for the worst ; the D.D.’s taking charge of their 
souls while the M.D.’s tortured their bodies. They were 
so sandwiched in between physic and prayer, that they 
had little will-power or vitality left with which to battle 
disease. 

Uncle Sam sent for his wife, but knew some hours 
must pass before she could reach him. She, poor soul, 
blamed herself for his illness, believing if she had been 
with him she might have warded off this dangerous ill- 


202 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


ness. And when she arrived at the end of her journey 
and found that her husband yet lived, she burst into a 
cry of thankfulness and was too happily excited to trust 
herself in his presence for a few moments. After gain- 
ing control of her feelings, she walked softly into the sick- 
room of her husband, put her arms around him, and 
kissed his pale face and sunken eyes. 

“ My dear, dear husband, I am so thankful to be with 
you again.” 

Uncle Sam drew her face towards him, looking sadly 
and tenderly upon her while he spoke. 

“ I have longed for a sight of you, my long-suffering 
wife. I really cannot regret my illness so long as it has 
caused our reunion. At first I was too proud and stub- 
born to sendrfor you, and afterward, the sense of my un- 
worthiness kept me silent. Can you forgive all these long 
years of suffering I have caused you ? I cannot die with- 
out a full reconciliation. See, I am but as a little child, 
my body weak and my heart filled wdth remorse. Dear 
wife, give me the peace of pardon ere I die.” 

“ Say no more, dear husband, for we have both been to 
blame — you for your broken promises, and I for my 
proud silence and endurance. Had I earlier asserted 
my rights, you might have seen your error, and both of 
us would have been more blest. You must not talk of 
dying, for we are only preparing to live. During our 
separation, I have suffered more in the thought of your 
loneliness and unhappy state of mind than from my own 
personal wrongs. I have harbored no ill-feeling in my 
heart, but have both pitied and pardoned you long ago. 
Think no more of the past, but look forward to years of 
brighter time.” 


TRAPPED. 


203 


“ It is like you, wife, to bear the blame where you are 
blameless, but if I live, you shall do so no more. With 
you hope has returned, and already I feel the life-blood 
rushing through my veins and the gloom of death disap- 
pearing. Kiss me once more.” 

“ Now,” said aunt Sam, “ You must keep entirely quiet, 
I will hold your hand in mine while you rest. Sleep, 
your physicians say, is positively necessary, and this you 
can get now that your mind is contented.” 

This prophesy was fulfilled almost as soon as it was 
made, for the invalid slept peacefully for hours, breath- 
ing as softly as a little child. 

Meantime, his wife investigated the cause of his ill- 
ness and had pretty well arrived at the proper conclu- 
sion. Sallie and John were questioned, and stated that 
their master was in his usual health until reading an ar- 
ticle in the paper. Then he was so abstracted and quiet 
that John gave him a stimulant, after which he became 
violently ill. 

“And so did I,” said John, “ though I had et nothin’ 
an’ drinked nothin’ too, but a wee taste from master’s 
bottle.” 

“ So you both drank from it, did you ? ” enquired aunt 
Sam, as the thought entered her mind that her husband 
had been poisoned. 

We did, mum,” was the respectful reply. 

The good lady poured the contents of the bottle into a 
glass and examined it. There was a muddy appearance 
to the liquor and a strange smell, but nothing very no- 
ticeable. She put it back in the bottle and took it into 
her husband’s room with the purpose of sending for 


204 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


some one to analyze it. Seeing her actions uncle Sam, 
who was awake and vastly improved, remembered at 
once about the powder he had prepared for John. And 
after learning that John had given some of it to him he 
laughed heartily. 

“Wife, wife,” said he, lifting his head from the pillow, 
“ I forgot about putting an emetic in that liqtior for 
John. We are both caught in the trap I set for him. 
Throw the deuced bottle away and I promise never to 
replace it with another.” 

“ Thank heaven for that ! ” said the grateful wife. 

Going to John she enquired if he would relish a drink 
of liquor. He was perfectly amazed at her request. 

“ Indeed, mum,” said he, “ it’s kind of ye to think of a 
poor body like me, but ye ’ll please excuse me want of 
appertite. I mostly craves water, an’ feel set agin the 
bottle, as it ’s left a bad taste in me mouth that I can’t git 
red of whatever. Besides, mum, it pleases Sallie to see 
me hate the stuff, an’ I shall never touch it agin, the Lord 
willin’.” 

Aunt Sam encouraged this laudable resolve and said 
she only wished to know if his taste had changed. 

“You realize for yourself,” said she, “that liquors are 
so adulterated that they are dangerous. I am positive 
your illness was produced by some kind of foreign sub- 
stance being in the drink. [Aunt Sam was telling the 
truth, but implying a little more, in the hope of frighten- 
ing John into total abstinence.] In drinking intoxicants, 
no man knows of what vile ingredients they are com- 
posed. They are unsafe to life ; so, as you value it, 
hereafter drink no more.” 

Then aunt Sam not only destroyed the offending black 


TRAPPED. 


205 


bottle, but the numerous others containing the medicines 
prescribed for her husband. She no longer doubted 
that when their vicious effects died out of the patient’s 
system, recovery would be complete. 

The physicians, however, could not be reconciled to 
such simple and natural conclusions, and they claimed 
that only their medical science could have brought the 
patient through the disease he suffered with. They 
charged twenty-seven hundred dollars for their services, 
fully illustrating the value of medical wisdom (?) when 
exercised in behalf of the government ; and they gained 
great renown for the skill which so soon restored a great 
man to health. 

Uncle Sam’s spiritual advisers also claimed the glory 
of curing him of his malady. They said that nothing 
but a miracle could have done it, and thereafter they re- 
ceived higher salaries, because of the efficacy of their 
prayers. No one doubted but that these gentlemen, who 
were decked in fine array, and who uttered their prayers 
in the most grammatical and faultless language, would 
have more influence with the powers that be than ordi- 
nary people. And indeed why not ? 

After her swain’s illness, Sallie’s heart softened very 
materially ; and when he promised to quit drinking if 
she ’d marry him, she gave her consent. “ I ’ll have to 
marry ye, John,” said she, “jus’ ’cause ye ’s sich a ole 
goose.” Then wiping her eyes on her apron, she indig- 
nantly declared that “ Master an’ John would both 
have died dead , — pizened with them nasty drugs, — if 
missus had n’t come home when she did. An’ then,” 
here Sallie fired a kiss on John’s cheek, “I ’d a had no 
ole goose.” 



CHAPTER XXV. 
women’s universal sin. 

“ To-day abhorred, to-morrow adored, 

So round and round we run. 

And ever the truth comes uppermost, 

And ever is justice done.” 

D uring uncle Sam’s convalescence he so often de- 
sired to see Grade Prim, that his wife wrote and 
begged her to visit them. The day she was ex- 
pected the invalid was unusually lively, and among other 
employments he superintended the cutting and arranging 
of flowers for the house. 

“What a fool I have been, wife, to be so prejudiced 
against your sister, and thereby deprive our home of her 
cheerful presence. She is the most admirable woman I 
ever met, and could we prevail upon her to stay with 
us, her services in political affairs would be invaluable 
to me.” 

With a pleased but embarrassed look, aunt Sam re- 
plied : “ Your admiration of Gracie is quite a surprise to 
me. You must feel a singular interest to speak so.” 

“ Indeed I do. She has such a combination of intel- 
ligence, gentleness, independence, and womanly virtues 

206 


woman’s universal sin. 


207 


that I am forced to admit their power. And since your 
return, dear wife, I trace so many of these qualities in 
you that I feel more and more how wonderfully you sis- 
ters are alike. Now that my sight is restored, I am anx- 
ious to see you together, that I may note the difference 
in your appearance.” 

That evening aunt Sam went to the wharf to meet her 
sister, and only an expert could have told one of them 
from the other. They had planned to dress exactly 
alike, and each wore a pair of dark spectacles. 

When the master of the mansion heard their voices in 
the reception-room, he stepped in with genial, smiling 
countenance to welcome Grade. But as he glanced at 
the ladies, his smile died away, and something akin to 
horror swept over his countenance. He had the feeling 
that he was looking at one of those supernatural 
“ doubles ” he ’d heard of, for before him surely stood 
two Grade Prims. What could it mean ? 

“ Will you not welcome your sister ? ” said one of these 
uncanny beings. The host paid no attention to this re- 
mark, but pursued his self-imposed task of gazing wildly 
at the speaker and her duplicate. He hoped sincerely 
that his illness was causing him an optical delusion, as 
that would be pleasanter than to be confronted by these 
mysterious creatures who claimed his hospitality. Yet 
there they were, apparently facts, and no prospect of 
their vanishing as visions. The poor old man could 
scarcely find strength enough to inquire : “ Where is my 
wife ? Did you not meet her ? ” 

For reply, one of the figures laid aside her wrap, bon- 
net, wig, and glasses, and speaking in her natural voice, 


208 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


the husband recognized his wife. But when Gracie took 
off her bonnet and glasses, her brother-in-law was more 
bewildered than ever, as neither her features nor voice 
were quite as natural as they ought to be. Taking her 
hand, uncle Sam spoke in a perplexed manner : 

“ Really, madam, there is some indefinable change in 
you ; a something which I can neither name nor compre- 
hend. Or, — perhaps I am not well and the change is 
only imaginary. That must be the case, I think, for I 
feel weak and confused.” 

“ No, no, do not think so,” said his wife, putting her 
arms around him. “ Let me explain the seeming mys- 
tery. My sister was not here with you at all ; I only 
personated her, and with what success you already know. 
Will you believe me when I assure you I did it with good 
intentions ? Will you forgive the deception ? ” 

“ You deceive me — -you act a part ? Why, may 
Sata ” 

“ No, dear husband, not that : only say you forgive me 
or I can have no peace.” 

Uncle Sam drew his wife tenderly into his arms as he 
answered : “My wife, my friend, my old sweetheart, you 
have made me happier than you can ever know. You 
have torn the scales from my eyes, and shown me the 
worth of a soul which I had heretofore no appreciation 
of. You have opened the book of my life before me, 
and I have read its pages with shame and contrition. Re- 
morse has been gnawing at my heart ever since the hour 
I tried to drive you from home, and to know I did not 
succeed in my brutality, makes a new man of me. I 
compelled you to the step you took, and I ’m thankful 


woman’s universal sin. 


209 

your ingenuity found means of thwarting my ruffianly 
designs.” 

Turning to Gracie uncle Sam extended his hand and 
said : “ I humbly ask your pardon for the churlish, unkind 
spirit I have always shown you. In surrounding myself 
with spiritual darkness, I have thought it manly to trample 
on the feelings of the weaker portion of humanity. Above 
all, have I been a monster to my uncomplaining wife. I 
have usurped all the benefits of power, and divided 
nothing but the cares and crosses of life. In my 
selfishness and vanity I believed myself the model of 
mankind, while in reality I was only a self-conceited 
jackanapes ; a lying, treacherous, tyrannical, rascally, 
egotistical, pig-headed ” 

“ Enough, enough ! ” said aunt Sam, putting her hand 
over the speaker’s mouth. “ I cannot hear my husband 
so slandered, and I forbid you to say another word.” 

“ I am only telling the truth, wife, and as Heaven is 
my witness, I begin a reform from this hour. If you 
were living your true life when you personated your 
sister, go on ; for, when you told me you could never 
marry the man you loved, I confess I wished my wife 
were more like her sister. But now I am proud of you 
just as you are. All we need to add to our happiness is 
the presence of your sister in our home. Let us be but 
one family.” 

“ My brother,” said Gracie, “ I would gladly remain 
with you if by so doing I can make you happier. Here 
I could better serve the interests of humanity than in my 
own obscure home. In our united efforts to do good let 
us forget the failures and sorrows of the past, and live 
only for the future.” 


210 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


We will not follow up the conversation of that happy 
trio. It is enough to know that in the months that fol- 
lowed it, the old executive mansion shone with a new 
light, that of a congenial, happy home, its inmates shar- 
ing together the hopes, pleasures, and sorrows of life. , 

In answering a delightful letter from my uncle I con- 
cluded it with this remark : 

“ And so you admit your Scripture arguments ‘ null 
and void,’ though you assert that I construed the pas- 
sages to suit myself? Why, surely I did. I took just 
the same liberty that you did and that the gospel minis- 
ters take. We each use our own light, and because of 
the different interpretations to which the Bible is subject, 
there is great diversity of opinions. Otherwise all Chris- 
tians would believe alike, and there would be but one 
denomination, one true church, whatever that might be. 
So, my dear uncle, do not take me to task for that which 
Christians consider as a great virtue in themselves. They 
believe that they understand the Bible correctly, and I 
believe I understand it as well as they do. It ’s only a 
matter of opinion at best. 

“ Since you admit your error in government, I believe 
you will yet give woman the right of trial by her peers, 
the right to her property and to her children, and the 
custody of her own body. Till then, the Goddess of 
Liberty is chained to her standard, and represents 
slavery for one half your people. 

“ But oh, my precious uncle, you make me inexpres- 
sibly happy in your promise to spend the summer with 
me ! Happy, happy will be the time when my guardians 
rest under my roof ! I will show you what domestic 


woman’s universal sin. 


2II 


happiness is. I will take you into a home-nest which 
will make your old heart young again, and my birdlings 
will sing you the songs of innocence and joy. 

“ But, speaking of them reminds me that I should pre- 
pare you for a demonstration in your honor by our little 
‘ sojers.’ They are to give you and aunt a reception, and 
it is intimated that the ‘ women ’ will participate, even to 
the extent of carrying banners and giving the welcoming 
address. Surely the world does move ! 

“ My whole household is in a joyous commotion, and 
my heart in a flutter of glad expectation. Even now the 
happy tears are blinding my eyes as I think of the pleas- 
ures awaiting me. And these words are rippling in my 
heart like the song of a bird : My dear ones are coming, 
coming, coming ! oh, my dear old guardians are coming ! 

“ That the angels may guide you in this life, and wel- 
come you in the next, is the wish of your loving child, 

“ Jessie.” 

“ P. S. — I would n’t be a woman did I not occasionally 
add a P. S. to my letters. 

“ In your last you enquire rather sarcastically whether 
women have any faults. Lest I be accused of bias or 
misrepresentation, I will admit (with great humiliation) 
that, as a class, they have one imperfection. They would 
probably have been pure and unadulterated angels had 
not the laws of creation interfered. But in that, as well 
as every thing else, the law stepped in and defrauded 
them. 

“ Civilization, education, science, religion, and all 
social influences known, have failed to crush the evil of 
which I complain. And women themselves, in their 


212 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


fruitless efforts to overcome it, feel that they are indeed 
the ‘ weaker ’ persons. They have not fully decided 
whether political equality would serve them in such an 
emergency or not, but, realizing their own helplessness, 
they beg me, as their representative, to appeal to the in- 
genuity and wonderful mental capacity of man for its 
final destruction. O august and superior man ! They 
beg that you will put it through a strict course of law, 
such as its sex entitles it to. If it survive then must ex- 
termination prove hopeless. 

“ With much mortification and sackcloth-and-ashes of 
soul, I now unveil the truth to your scientific gaze : 

“ Women will^ viciously, invariably, persistently, and 
universally, run from a mouse ! 

“ Alack-a-day ! ” 



CHAPTER XXVI. 


THE DAWN. 

“ Firmly stand, though sirens lure us ; 

Firmly stand — though falsehood rail, 

Holding justice, truth, and mercy ; 

Die we may — but cannot fail. 

Fail ! — it is the word of cowards ; 

Fail ! the language of the slave ; 

Firmly stand, till duty beckons ; 

Onward then, e’en to the grave.” 

M any, many years have passed since I penned this 
little story, yet I have now decided to complete 
it. Since it was begun, great social and politi- 
cal changes have taken place, and many of the ills herein 
mentioned have been modified or removed. This could 
only have been accomplished through the vigilance of 
brave men and women ; through them alone will the 
work go on. 

In 1848, Mrs. Stanton (God bless her !), Mrs. Mott, and 
a few others, called the first “Woman’s Rights Conven- 
tion,” and for twenty years have the women of this Re- 
public petitioned Congress for a redress of their wrongs ; 
holding their annual conventions in Washington, the 
leaders and inspiring spirits being Mrs. Stanton and Miss 
Anthony. The thousands and thousands of names 

213 


214 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


signed to the petition for a XVIth Amendment to the 
Constitution, show that public interest is increasing. 
The ranks are constantly re-enforced by the highest 
talent, intellect, and morals of this country ; and this 
combined force 7?iust bring success eventually. 

The grand armies of the W. C. T. U, are rolling up 
the converts every hour, the suffrage plank in their plat- 
form representing the moral strength of women. They 
are forced to self-defence by the horrors of male legisla- 
tion. They have outgrown the belief that woman was a 
mere after-thought of the Creator. They find no divine 
qualities in man which are not also in woman, and in 
her sometimes greatly intensified. But, unfortunately 
for the success of political equality, there seems great 
danger that the W. C. T. U. will fulfil the prophecies 
made by anti-suffragists years ago. In its zeal to over- 
throw the curse of drink, and save our sons and husbands 
from moral death, it also threatens to shake the founda- 
tions of a free government. 

If I am correctly informed, the Union says : “ Christ, 
as the author and head of government, should be recog- 
nized in all political platforms.” 

This would be a violation of our Constitution, for it 
expressly declares: “No religious test shall ever be 
required as a qualification to any office or public trust 
under the United States.” 

Have the excellent ladies of the Union forgotten the 
cause of our seven years’ war ? I hope not. And I am 
slow to believe that they would consciously plunge our 
country into another. Let them as a Union, or as indi- 
viduals, serve Christ and enjoy their religious convictions 


THE DAWN. 


215 


as they will, but allow others to do the same. Liberty 
of conscience is the most priceless jewel of America. If 
that be denied, then, indeed, is Freedom slain by the 
bloody hand of Intolerance. 

Immigration is constantly bringing ignorant voters to 
our country, and the strength and purity of our noble 
women should be utilized in political economy. It is 
needed to counteract the great tide of evil by which we 
are surrounded. 

In their undeveloped state, the negroes, also, are a very 
undesirable element in politics. Before their freedom, 
they were greatly abused, and had no opportunities 
whatever to attain knowledge. They, as a class, are per- 
fectly irresponsible voters, and are not to blame for their 
condition. Yet, ignorant as they are, they are citizens, 
and the political masters of the women of this country, 
— of one half the white population. 

A mother is not considered a citizen, though every son 
she bears is, and through his political power helps to 
fetter the one who gave him life. This seems so strange 
that we naturally enquire what the meaning of the word 
citizen is. Webster says : “Any native-born or natural- 
ized person of either sex who is entitled to full protec- 
tion in the exercises of the so-called private rights.” 

The “ American Encyclopaedia ” says : “ All persons 
born within the State, irrespective of age, sex, or condi? 
tion, are presumptively citizens.” 

The XIVth Amendment of the Constitution says : 
“All persons born or naturalized in the United States, 
and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the 
United States, and of the State wherein they reside. No 


2i6 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


State shall make any law which shall abridge the privi- 
leges or immunities of citizens of the United States, nor 
shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or 
property, without due process of law, nor deny to any 
person within the jurisdiction the equal protection of the 
law.” 

The XVth Amendment further says: “The right of 
citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied 
or abridged by the United States, or by any State, on ac- 
count of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” 

Thus, according to our best definitions of language, 
women are citizens ; and, being such, have the right to 
the ballot, — “ all persons ” and “ all citizens ” meaning 
women as well as men. 

This is further proven by the fact that when the law 
taxes, arrests, fines, imprisons, or hangs a woman, “ he ” 
or “him ” in the official documents means the woman ; 
and he or him means the corpse when the halter ’s cut, 
“ irrespective of age, sex, or condition.” 

Why, then, is a woman treated as a citizen in cases of 
punishment only ? Why is n’t she a citizen in the bene- 
fits and immunities of the laws ? Who gave men the sole 
power of deciding this question ? I know of but two 
classes claiming it — good, conscientious men who fear 
woman’s religious intolerance ; and mental dwarfs, who 
hope to prove their own strength of mind by the lawful 
restraint of woman’s. While I duly respect the convic- 
tions of the former, I have poor consolation in remain- 
ing the political victim of the latter. 

That our forefathers intended women to vote, is 
clearly proven by the fact that women did exercise this 


THE DAWN. 


217 


privilege in early days. But had they no right heretofore 
the XIVth Amendment confers it. In this matter the 
Supreme Court of the District of Columbia says : “ All 
that has been accomplished by this Amendment to the 
Constitution, or its previous provisions, is to distinguish 
them (women) from aliens, and make them capable of 
becoming voters. In giving expression to my judgment 
this clause does advance to full citizenship, and clothes 
them with the capacity to become voters.” 

With such authority, what need prevent every woman 
of the United States from making use of her rights ? 

We maybe met with the assertion that State laws pro- 
hibit this right, but those using the argument should re- 
member that the XIVth and XVth Amendments are each 
followed by the declaration that “ Congress shall have 
power to enforce this Article by appropriate legislation.” 
A State is only a subordinate, and must itself submit to 
higher authority. 

Women have realized for years that they are entitled 
to the ballot, and some of them have exercised this right, 
notably Miss Anthony, with what fairness and success 
her arrest and prosecution as a criminal must decide. 
No greater outrage was ever perpetrated on a citizen of 
this country ; and in recording their acts, the judge, 
jury, and courts have published their own shame. 

My own opinion is that, in every community, the 
women should go to the polls in such immense crowds 
that the jails would not be large enough to hold them, 
nor life long enough to prosecute them all. 

We women should all know by this time that “ they 
who would be free, themselves must strike the blow.” 


2i8 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


Wyoming and Washington territories give women the 
ballot, and are delighted with the results ; and wherever 
women have sat on juries nothing but good has come of 
their presence. 

“ It is estimated that one seventh of the bread-winners 
of the United States are women ; that, in Massachusetts, 
women pay one ninth of all the taxes, yet have no voice 
in its distribution.” 

I wonder how men would like that condition of affairs 
for themselves ; and how many of them would believe 
in that pretty fable about the government being made 
“ for the people and by the people.” 

Women are now filling nearly every business position 
and profession in life. But they are made to walk 
through the fires of prejudice to attain the most desirable. 
They are rapidly developing a moral courage, individual- 
ity, and independence worthy of true womanhood. And 
in every department of life they compare favorably with 
men. 

Among their extraordinary avocations may be men- 
tioned that of commanding a steamboat. Mrs. M. J. 
Cravens obtained a license for this position, and makes 
an excellent officer. And report has it that she does n’t 
swear either. 

Kansas, the first State in the Union to give women the 
ballot at municipal elections, is also the first to allow her 
to hold positions under the law. In the town of Syra- 
cuse, in Hamilton County, five married ladies were 
elected in the council, the mayor being the only male 
representative in the administration. 

Argonia, Kansas, did better yet. It elected Mrs. Su- 


THE DAWN. 


219 


sanna Salter its mayor. She is a housekeeper, wife, and 
the mother of three or four children. She is also an ac- 
tive member of the Church and of the W. C. T. U. 

Several years ago, Mrs. Belva Lockwood was a candi- 
date for the presidency of the United States. Her defeat 
is no guaranty that woman will never fill that position, 
nor proof that she could not fulfil the obligations of that 
office were she elected. 

To Miss Anna Dickinson belongs the honor of sug- 
gesting the XVth Amendment. The XIVth Amendment 
did not fully protect the negroes’ political rights, and 
the Republican party was greatly perplexed till Miss 
Dickinson came to its relief. 

Though women are under no moral obligations to up- 
hold a government which restrains their liberties, yet at 
all times have they been loyal subjects, except, indeed, 
in the Confederate States, where many were misled and 
wrongly influenced by their “ representatives.” During 
the late civil war women used both tongue and pen in 
behalf of the Union, and went as nurses for the wounded 
and dying ; and it has been estimated that over four 
hundred served in the army. They endured the same 
hardships as men, and risked punishment and disgrace if 
discovered. Yet for all the deprivations and miseries of 
a civil war, either in battle or at home, women received 
neither glory nor pay ; nor were they allowed the bene- 
fits of the Emancipation Act with other political slaves. 

To a woman, principally, do we owe the welfare of 
our Union. Miss Anna Ella Carroll planned the Tennes- 
see campaign, which resulted in Sherman’s march to the 
sea and to Union victory. This occurred in 1861, when 


220 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


the government’s safety depended on the opening of the 
Mississippi. This young lady gave her money and time to 
the work, and her patriotism and intelligence enabled us ' 
to float the national colors, which otherwise might have 
been trampled in the dust by rebel feet. 

Miss Carroll also exercised a wide influence on all the 
border States by her loyal publications in newspapers 
and pamphlets, which articles were used by the govern- 
ment as war measures. The Congressional Memorials 
contain full accounts of this lady’s work in support of 
the government. 

For her phenomenal statesmanship and sagacity, her 
generous and loyal devotion, her incalculable politi- 
cal value to our country, what has she received ? After 
a quarter of a century, this heroine of peace has had 
neither honor nor reward from the government, is entitled 
to no vote, and is “ governed without her consent.” She 
is only a woman ! I can but reiterate Madame Roland’s 
dying words : “ O Liberty ! what crimes are committed 
in thy name ! ” 




CHAPTER XXVIL 

CONCLUSION. 

T ime has brought various changes to the characters 
of my little every-day story, some of which I must 
mention. Mrs. Wolfe, poor soul ! never entirely 
recovered from her incarceration. Her hopes were 
blasted, and her nerves and health shattered, and she 
quickly faded out of this life. Her daughters have a 
musical conservatory, from which they derive a comfort- 
able support. 

After a widowhood of some years, Marcia Madison 
married a talented man, who is in full sympathy with her 
on the suffrage question. With him she enjoys the per- 
fection of domestic life. Her children are great sources 
of pride and pleasure to her. Lena converted and mar- 
ried Tom Hill, and she is a contented and exemplary 
wife. Tom says his views moderated from the day they 
had their childish debates. 

Edna Wolfe is an influential member of society, her 
immense wealth giving her power over people who can- 
not appreciate goodness and virtue alone. She is a 
general benefactress, using every effort to alleviate human 
misery wherever found. She has willed most of her 
property to little Waif, as she says he was the indirect 


221 


222 


OUR UNCLE AND AUNT. 


cause of her inheritance. Though growing old and 
feeble, Edna is truly beautiful. Her soul is so matured 
in all that is pure and good, that, when the “ pale boat- 
man ” calls, he will find an angel ready-made. 

Mrs. Hall’s children are left alone, but are very useful 
and happy women. They seem disinclined to marriage, 
their mother’s experience being a lesson by which they 
profit. 

Major Hill died suddenly and in the prime of life ; 
and despite his efforts to leave his property in good 
shape for his family, he did not succeed. The talons of 
the law got fastened into it, and dragged it through the 
courts till there was little left. This greatly exasperated 
Elvira, and aroused her to her helplessness and wrongs. 
She abused the lawyers and judges personally, holding 
them, instead of the laws which they obeyed, responsible 
for her misfortun.es. She is now as great an extremist 
against the anti-suffragists as she used to be against the 
opposite party. Nothing can dissuade her from the be- 
lief in their total depravity, and she has no patience with 
any one who respects or defends them. 

In my own little family I have all the happiness I 
could desire. Bessie graduated in a medical college and 
is now practising in her profession. She throws her 
whole sympathetic soul into her work, and is very happy 
in her success. 

Archie was at West Point for years and is now a lieu- 
tenant. I regret very much that his nature demanded 
this kind of life, but I know he would never have been 
happy in any other position. He was born a warrior. 
Well, uncle Sam’s armies must have reinforcements from 


CONCLUSION. 


223 


some source, why not from this community ? Why 
should n’t my handsome son serve ? 

Dot is a fine young lad, studying law with his father, 
and is yet a “ woman’s righter ” through and through, 
without the bribe of “ bread an’ butter wif shooder on ’t.” 
And my beloved husband, what shall I say of him ? 
Aside from the age that begins to bear him down, he is 
simply Charley still, and that is the highest praise I can 
give to any one. No one was ever truer, better, or more 
unselfish than he. He will always be so, he can never 
change. 

He and I are the same old sweethearts that we were in 
youth, both doing all we can in our humble way for the 
enfranchisement of women. The dawn of truth and 
justice appears, and in the future, man and woman will 
be the true friends and helpmeets to each other that na- 
ture intended them to be. 

We have not much time left us in this world — Charley 
and I — but we will work while it lasts. We two old 
people are fast nearing the shores of the Eternal, and 
now and then catching the smiles of the angels. And as 
we drift into a better life, may our failing senses be 
cheered by the visions of green fields and meadows, the 
smell of the apple-blossoms, and the songs of the robin ! 


THE END. 


^ WV * ^ ^ ‘ ' •* 

7ig-r>^ - * r 


TVl’T^n 

-''e?-'(r>;>.'4 - " ' 

IffWjC Vt-=i ■ *- '* W"' * 




fr' r 




^fl'' 

ilE> • t y ' *-V *' *' * 




p' 


’t _ 





;VV *. 


4- 


I ^ 


r^’ 


* * ' « •vt’ 

■ f .•t9^ 


P I I' A .<d V fl 







WSW>» 

^ & 


' ‘ ' » - . '-'^ If 

•>■■' 'J' •■ ^1 • 

/i>«',vi’» ■'' •' 

'■ ‘•?'*^vi .•? iwr.^ 

k 


^ <*> I' 


i i 


jf,kf 

'- ' ' ' 

».i , _ ■ 

^ ^1(3^ ^--' „ *:<^_ ^ 

l^*' 






ipi» * ’** * 1 ■ •» ’ 

I jt 



^ • 









'•’.U S}- 1 • 

* • f » ***,.•• 




, vi ^ 


^ f . . » S, » f ^ 



: • 

r fcV 


■J-V >*^Lt . L.f* V W'^C^ 


.V .• 








. vM^-j3 






d* f 


' -iT - 

^ ^ . V - 

_ .;#c 

■ 4 -* w 


fti ■ HT 



'"»t Stf 


z. 1 * i 


- •' Vv*;-- 

' K ' 14^ 


'I 


f : -V • sy 



.. ■>* 



I i ■' 
•: ^ • '• 




. Alt.-V 

“>U: .V* iV 

. ' , r I** . ' 

. K / 





t I 


' . — .i:-;.>-.^n v'.^.'se .• ■..!■ :• tf .. ■. 


”t ‘ >* 

Kk"'- 


PS 




1 hi__- 


Rr**ri r- 


V 4 * / 




b 


I 






Ji. *4 


<f 4 


<1. 













■V-- 


m 










to 

■•,• » y 


.*5:i 




V ^ •; 


^ » 


m • 0 • 

-*■: - 'v.V- <'•-' <"' •-••. '■% 
-'-’■ ;r -. .v-a’:; 

• - . r -f - - : •-*-*■, 


\.. i"jL"^ 'Vr ' *'’ 




• - V ^ ^ 1 




^1 


. '*-* 


.- 7*4’ — 

f'.vX . 
^>r ' 


( 

. ♦• 




r 

. . 4 


• ' - ^ ’ H '• 

^■^‘** • *i -.^ •* V'’’ 

V - • t • • '•' • ^ • 


. « « t f 


.-'V'T 


> • 


» r v: ^ 

* • f ,iV 

■ ; jT* '■ 

* vl .fc • - 




-> 

• _ « 


» Y . "Ji >* ' T‘ .- “■ 

*•-»-•• . '- . ^ . • 

•'. r ^.; 

- ' V'V 




7 : 


-k' / 


V"f_. 


*'‘>^ .-t 









* ^ 


t 7 

vs: 






< ^TA 


®3Cr i/ »f7tf^- W 



^PvsS^B 












rj[^v>v. 


BvTTflH 





Vjf^y 



■sC^vjS*^ 



7J^ j ^T* T 

. /.•V13 


Of 


■fi^ Wf. 





\f ' 




I 

1 

i 


4%<J 







































LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





